Losing Your Memory
by Gleefanx10
Summary: Santana was used to getting in trouble. But this time, trouble just might have gotten her somewhere. Somewhere important. Or rather, someone important. She just hopes to god they remember her in the morning... AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay guys! Here's the first chapter of my new story. I hope you guys like it and please review. **

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She kept running. Her chest heaved up and down as she turned the corner, leaves crunching under her feet. She frantically looked behind herself as the sirens began to become louder and louder. She quickly dodged into someone's yard, taking a shortcut through their backyard. In an attempt to hop over their fence, her jeans got caught on a nail.

"Crap!" She yanked and yanked until the material finally ripped free and she continued to run. "These were sixty bucks."

This was the fourth time she had found herself running from the police. She mentally kicked herself for forgetting to remember to get Puck to be her spotter. It was really stupid how it happens to be so recently that she keeps getting caught. She had been shop lifting since she was eleven years old and she had gotten real good. Guess she just became cocky and careless.

This time had been so stupid. She casually walked through the store like she always did, looking for something worth snatching. It was all pretty boring until she saw a necklace that caught her eye. It was a silver necklace with four little crystal music notes on it. Not even looking at the price, she picked it up and walked toward the mirror. She held it up to her neck and smiled. She and Puck had come up with many clever strategies as how to steal something without getting caught. It took them years to perfect, but they never failed. Until now.

Suddenly, the necklace fell to the floor, and she walked over to a rack nearby. She pulled on a shirt until it too fell onto the floor. Bending down, she simultaneously picked up both the shirt and necklace with the same hand, only to drop the necklace into her purse. When she was at full height, she looked around to see if anyone had witnessed her act. When it appeared no one had, the girl smiled and put the shirt back on the rack. She had just stepped out of the door of the store when a person came crashing into her, causing her to fall over and all the contents of her purse to spill out, including the necklace.

"Hey, that girl tried to steal that necklace!" Her neck snapped to find another customer flagging down an employee, who picked up the phone. She knew what was coming and did the only thing she could think of. She ran.

So, that's how she got to running across town, trying to get to Puck's house before the police got to her. She really thought she was going to get away, but when she came out of that neighborhood, two police cars were coming right toward her. She booked it in the other direction, eventually tripping over her ripped jeans. She got up and was about to keep running when a cold hand wrapped itself around her arm. She was whipped around to face the intense stare of a tall blonde woman in a police uniform.

"Miss Lopez, you are in serious trouble."

* * *

Santana sat with her arms across her chest in one of those courtroom chairs. It wasn't even one of the cool looking courtrooms like in Law & Order. Just some boring little room with four chairs and a Judge's stand.

"Miss Lopez," Judge Figgins started, looking down on her, "this is the fourth time you have been caught stealing this month! Do you have any idea how serious this matter has become?"

Santana just shrugged her shoulders.

The judge continued. "You can't be bailed out by your parents anymore. You will have to go to trial, and since you're seventeen, I guarantee they will try to try you as an adult! Do you know what that means?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Santana immediately stood up in her chair. "Wait, Judge Figgins, I _can't _go to prison! I have a life, I'm only seventeen!" She was panicking. _Prison? Theirs is no chance in hell she would survive in prison. _

"Well, I guess you should have thought of that before committing felonies, Miss Lopez." Figgins replied pointedly.

Santana fell back down in her seat, putting her head in her hands. She could feel a major headache coming on.

"There is the matter of a plea bargain to discuss…"

Her head shot up. She gave the judge a skeptical look. "What's a plea bargain?"

"A plea bargain is when a person pleads guilty for a lesser charge. If you were to consider a plea bargain, you could get off with a couple of weeks of community service." Figgins cleared his throat.

"Yes! Yes, I'll do the plea bargain thing, the community service. I'll do anything not to go to prison." Santana felt like she was begging. She was the resident bad ass in Columbus, Ohio. She's never begged for anything. But this time she was desperate.

Figgins simply nodded. "Alright, I will set up a program of community service for you and contact you or your parents on the information needed." He looked at her serious then, "Now Santana, just because this program will 'get you off the hook' or whatever you kids are saying now, doesn't mean this will be your free pass to do it again. I will be assigning you a parole officer as well to keep you out of further trouble. Is that clear?"

Santana nodded. "Yes, Your Honor."

Judge Figgins smiled. "Great, so it is settled," he picked up a piece of paper and examined it before writing something on the paper and handing it down to Santana. "You will be performing six weeks of community service at the Lima County Mental Institution in Lima, Ohio. You will room with one of your advisors at the institute."

"Mental Institute?"

_She was doing community service at a freaking mental institute! She'll be stuck around a bunch of crazies for six weeks. How much worse could her life really get? _

"Oh, and Santana? Meet your new parole officer, Sue Sylvester."

Santana looked at the door to find the very same tall blonde woman whose arm had brought her to her doom.

Officer Sylvester stared at her with that same intense glare. But this time, it was matched with a cynical grin as well. "Nice to meet you, Miss Thang."

_Oh, great. _

The next Monday after her court encounter, it was time for her departure to Loonytown. Her parents had packed everything in her car and got her set up to drive to wherever the hell Lima, Ohio was. Once packed, she said goodbye and another round of sorry's to her parents and her little brother, Carlos. After she left her house, she stopped at Puck's to say goodbye. They had been bros forever. It was hard to say goodbye.

"Dude, have fun with all the nutjobs. I won't be surprised if you come back crazy yourself." Puck playfully ruffled her hair and gave her a hug.

"You know, out of the two of us, I always thought you were the one going to end up in jail." Santana joked.

Puck put a hand on this chest and feigned hurt. "Ouch, Santana!"

The two burst out laughing until they were interrupted by Officer Sylvester calling her to get her butt on the road. They hugged again and after that she was by herself, driving to her fate because of some stupid mistake.

"I hate my life."

* * *

Five and a half hours later, Santana pulled up to a depressing looking building with the words 'Lima County Mental Institution' writes across the top. She figured she was in the right place.

When she walked inside, she swore she was in some kind of movie or something. There were people spread out all around the front room. There was a woman in the far corner making a bear out of cotton balls. There was a nurse trying to calm down this child who was screaming profusely. And there was a man eating a plastic plant.

"Dear lord, what have I gotten into?"

She cautiously walked up to the front desk, where a young woman was typing away at the computer frantically. She had been standing there for five minutes before she cleared her throat, finally making her presence known. The woman looked up, looking startled.

"Oh, hello. How may I help you, sweetie?" Santana examined the woman's appearance. She couldn't be more than twenty-three and she had short black hair and soft eyes.

Santana placed a hair behind her ear. "Um, I'm Santana Lopez. I'm not sure if someone told you about me-"

"Yes! Santana, your parole officer has informed us about your arrival. We are very glad to have your help around here. As you can kind of see, we really need it." She laughed nervously, looking at all the crazies in the front room. "I'm Olivia, by the way. I'm the receptionist. I will just call your supervisor to let her know that you're here." She smiled before picking up the phone on the desk.

While Olivia was on the phone, Santana took the opportunity to look around more closely. She noticed how sickly the place looked on the inside. The wallpaper was an unsettling shade of green and peeling in some places. There was a sitting area to the right that consisted of smelly polyester chairs and a wooden table in the middle with nothing on it except for a rubber duck. All the plants were fake and there was nothing in sight that could be in any way considered sharp or dangerous.

In short, the place looked boring as hell.

The sound of Olivia calling her name brought Santana's attention away from her head.

"Your advisor will be down to greet you in a moment. We really are glad you are here Santana. I'm sure you will be a help to all the patients here." Olivia smiled before turning back to her computer.

For a second Santana wondered how much the staff was told about her, but she shook it off and decided she was just being nice. A few seconds later, a short, plump woman came tumbling down the hall.

"You must be Santana Lopez, our new volunteer!" The woman exclaimed cheerily, tumbling over to Santana, giving her a squeeze.

"Yes, I am." Santana spoke, shyly.

"No need to be timid dear, you will get comfortable soon enough. My name is Gracie Moore, and I will be your advisor for your community service program the judge has set up for you."

"Nice to meet you, Gracie."

"It's a pleasure to have you. Now, if you will follow me, I will take you up to your room and explain to you what you will be doing for the next six weeks. C'mon." Gracie motioned Santana to follow her and the two left the lobby with all of Santana's belongings up to the third floor where all the employees stay. It is a twenty-four hour job so that they have someone on hand in case an emergency happens in the middle of the night.

They arrived at a door with the number twenty-two on the front. Gracie unlocked the door and revealed the inside. Santana walked in and sat on the bed. It was small, but efficient. There was a bed and a desk with a computer on it, as well as an empty bookshelf and a small closet. There was a window next to her bed overlooking the parking lot.

"I hope it's to your liking." Gracie chimed from the doorway.

Santana nodded. "Yes, this is nice."

Gracie walked in and sat in the chair next to the desk. She handed Santana a folder with a bunch of papers and documents in it.

"Here at Lima County Mental Institute, each of our employees is assigned a group of patients to become their aid. They give them their medications, take them on walks around the garden, sit in on therapy session, and simply hang out with them if they get lonely. They basically do everything they can to advise the patient to help them get better and maintain their illnesses." She paused, making sure Santana got all of that.

When Santana nodded, Gracie continued.

"Since you are only a volunteer and lack the training the other employees have, we will only be assigning you _one _patient." Gracie pointed to the folder in Santana's hands. "All you need to know about your patient is in that folder. From medical records to schedules for their therapy. _Do not lose them. _They are very important papers and highly confidential."

Santana nodded. "Yes, I promise I won't lose them."

Gracie smiled then her face seemed to soften. "Your patient is one of our more tragic cases. I advise you be very gentle with her and everything will go smoothly. Poor little thing," Gracie shook her head in sympathy, "Anyway, in the closet are your uniforms and on the desk I have put your work schedule. You work every day from ten to nine, except for Wednesdays. You have those days off. Anymore questions and you can come find me or any other employee. Got it?"

"I think I got. Thanks Gracie."

"No, thank you sweetie. I'm just positive Rachel will love you!"

And with that, the plump woman left, leaving the criminal alone in her room. Santana sighed heavily, falling back on the bed. She looked up at the boring, white ceiling.

"This job is a freaking piece of work." She muttered to herself.

She got up and opened up her closet door. Inside there was a blue collared dress with her name and LCMI stitched on the front. There was also a pair of khaki pants a blue polo shirt with the same stitching.

After a while of just sitting and moping, Santana had herself unpacked and bored as hell. She picked up the file Gracie gave her. She was curious as to what insane person she was to become a slave for.

The first paper inside was a birth certificate.

_Rachel Barbra Berry. Born on the eighteenth of December, 1994 at 7:45 a.m. 7 pounds, 9 ounces. Birth Father: Hiram Berry. Birth Mother: Shelby Corcoran. Adoptive Parents: Hiram and Leroy Berry. _

So she and this Rachel chick were the same age. That seemed like it would be kind of awkward.

Santana shrugged her shoulders and went onto the next paper. It was a doctor's report.

_Based on many tests performed over the course of her arrival, I have come to the conclusion that the patient, Rachel Berry, suffers from mild memory loss and slight hallucinations. Nothing too serious, however things may change in the future. _

_~Dr. Phillip Grey, PhD. _

Santana looked through a couple of more papers before getting ultimately more bored. Her stomach growled and she realized she hasn't eaten since breakfast that morning. She got up and went to go find the commissary.

The commissary was on the main floor, just to the left of the main lobby. As Santana guessed, it was a big, white, boring room without sharp objects. She bought herself a salad before sitting down at one of the tables.

"Are you new?"

A voice from behind made Santana turn around. Standing with trays of food were two blonde girls, who looked similar to her age.

"I'm not a patient if that's what you're thinking." Santana replied with a little edge in her voice.

"Then what are you?" The same blonde said again, with an eyebrow raised.

"I'm a volunteer. Now that we have that cleared up, why don't you go somewhere else. I likes to eat in peace." Whoever this chick was, she was really getting on Santana's nerves. Just the way she was standing gave Santana the instinct that this girl felt like she was in charge.

Instead of leaving like Santana asked, the two girls placed their trays across from her and sat down at the table.

Santana sighed, and put her fork down. "May I help you ladies?"

The same blonde just gave her a winning smile. It was kind of creepy in Santana's opinion.

"We just wanted to welcome you. I've never seen you around before, so you are obviously new."

"Yeah, well like I said, I'm not a patient."

"Oh, we know. We would have seen you at the morning assembly if you were a patient." The blonde stuck out her hand, "I'm Quinn, and this is Brittany." Santana looked a the other blonde who had yet to say a word.

"Nice to meet you Quinn. I'm assuming you two are patients?" Santana raised an eyebrow. She was getting the crazy vibes.

Quinn huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. "Unfortunately."

Santana laughed. "And what is a pretty thing like you doing in a Crazy House?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I fainted at my birthday party from my anorexia. My parents thought that was a justifiable reason to send me here."

"Wait, that's it? That's nothing." Santana commented.

"Tell me about it."

Santana pointed over to Brittany who was playing with the ends of her hair. "What's she in for?"

Quinn looked at her friend then back to Santana. "She doesn't talk."

"She doesn't talk? Like, ever?"

Quinn shrugged. "Ever since the eighth grade, she has spoken a word. We went to school together."

Santana shook her head. "Wow,"

She noticed Quinn's attention turned to something coming from behind Santana. Quinn nudged the blonde's arm and pointed, getting Brittany's attention. "Crazy and ten o'clock."

Santana turned around to see what they were looking at. "What are you guys talking about?"

"See that brunette sitting by herself next to the potted plant?" Quinn asked.

Santana's eyes wandered until they settled on a girl with long brunette hair and a big nose. She was staring over at the television, eating a carrot stick.

"Yeah?"

"That's Rachel Berry. She's the craziest person here. And there are a lot of nut jobs here."

Santana's head snapped back at Quinn. "Wait, _that's _Rachel Berry?"

Quinn nodded and Brittany nodded. "Yep. Though she really is borderline mental. I wouldn't go near her if I were you."

Then Quinn's watch beeped.

"Oh, Brittany and I have group therapy in five minutes, we better get going." The two blondes stood up and Quinn threw away her untouched food. "We'll see you around…" Quinn paused and Santana realized she never told them her name.

"Santana." She stated.

Quinn smiled. "Well, we'll see you around Santana." She turned to leave and Brittany smiled and waved.

Once again, she was alone, but she was more focused on this Rachel girl. Despite Quinn and Brittany's accusations, she looked pretty normal. More than that, Santana was intrigued with her appearance. She was…quite beautiful. Whether she was crazy or not, Santana would find out soon enough.

"This is going to be interesting."

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**So that was the first chapter of Losing Your Memory! I hoped you guys liked it and please review! I'm trying to top my first story In Her Eyes. **

**-Katie**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh my god, guys! Thank you so much for all the favorites and follows! I didn't expect anything like that after only one chapter so thank you so so much. Also, keep reviewing and enjoy.**

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Santana woke up Monday morning feeling anything but chipper. Her window didn't have shutters or anything like that so the sunlight shone right in her tired little face, hurting her eyes. She covered her face with her hands, groaning. It felt early. It felt too early. Too early for anyone to be awake and she was too tired to look over at the clock.

Reluctantly, Santana sat up and glanced at that clock on the desk with sleepy eyes. It was 9:15 a.m. She had to be ready to start her job as a slave in an hour.

Slowly, she stood up, dragging her feet across her tiny room to the even tinier bathroom that was attached to it. She combed through her dark hair and brushed her teeth. She didn't even bother putting anything on other than mascara. She wasn't in the mood to go full-glam.

Santana opened her closet and groaned even louder. She looked through her three whole three outfits.

"Hmm, what to choose, what to choose…" she tapped her chin, "I don't know, Santana, what do you think we should wear today? There's ugly and there's uglier. My, my do we have a lot to choose from…" she said to herself sarcastically.

She reluctantly pulled the dress from the hanger, realizing she was short on time and put it on. She tied the laces of her god-awful white Keds and she was ready for business. But before she left the room, she grabbed her folder with all of Rachel's information. She opened it and fingered through the papers until she found the one she was looking for.

"Okay, let's see…10 o'clock, brunch with patient followed by medications at 10:15. 11 o'clock, take a walk in the garden if patient wants, if not, then you are allowed to spend time with the patient in their room until noon for lunch. After lunch, there is therapy from one to two. 4 o'clock is when special events occur, plays, games, movies, etcetera…then dinner at six and from eight to ten patients are allowed free time while supervised with an aid." Santana finished reading her schedule and hit her forehead with the folder.

"Kill me." She huffed from behind the folder. She looked at the clock and saw that she had seven minutes to check in and take her patient to breakfast.

"Oh, crap." And she raced out the door.

She went down to the lobby to clock in, making it just in time, before heading to the second floor. She walked down the hallway, looking for room 232. She found it hard to concentrate on the room numbers, because of all the people parading down the hallway, everyone of them crazier looking than the last. There was a boy who looked about fourteen who was in a handstand up against a wall. There was a middle aged woman who was biting at her arm. It was all so strange that Santana almost missed room 232.

She was about to knock on the door when she stopped herself. There was noise coming from the room. Singing…really beautiful singing. She peeked through the doorway, which was already slightly open, to see where the singing was coming from. She couldn't see anything, so she quietly pushed open the door further. The girl had long dark hair, and Santana couldn't see her face because she was staring out the window.

Santana had never heard of a voice like that before. It was soft and light, but so strong and full of soul. It was like her voice was cradling each word, gentling caressing it to make this beautiful sound. Santana hadn't felt her feet move forward, but she had realized that she was walking into the room until her foot accidentally kicked aside a wastebasket, making a startled Rachel Berry turn around in surprise.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Santana apologized, picking the wastebasket up.

She looked back up and she saw Rachel standing there. She just stared, her mouth slightly ajar, the only movement coming from her were her eyelids blinking.

_Say something Santana, maybe if you say something, she'll say something._

"You have an awesome voice." She tried.

Nothing. More blinking.

_Just…start over. _"Hi, you must be Rachel," Santana walked toward the girl, "I'm Santana, I'm your new aid. I was just coming to take you to brunch when I heard you singing…your voice, I've never heard anything like it."

Still nothing. Santana was almost losing her patience with this girl. She huffed. "Well, let's go to brunch then." She turned on her heel and headed to the door.

"Interesting."

Santana stopped. She turned back to the girl. "What?"

"Your name, it's interesting. I've never heard anything like it." Rachel said, her face less frightened.

Santana smiled when she realized the girl had said the same she had said to her. She laughed. "Yeah, me neither."

Rachel tucked a hair behind her ear before walking toward Santana. "So, you're going to take care of me?"

The Latina smiled. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Santana and Rachel ate brunch in the commissary together, each eating their own bowls of oatmeal. They didn't talk at first. Santana just watched Rachel while she cautiously ate her food, hesitating each time before she put the spoon in her mouth.

"I like your necklace," Santana pointed to the other girls' neck. It was as small golden charm on a golden chain, she thought it was pretty but she was just using it as an excuse to make the situation less awkward.

Rachel automatically looked down to her neck, as if she had forgotten about the piece of jewelry. She brought handled the charm with her delicate fingers.

"Thank you," she said, timidly, "Gold stars are kind of my thing." She smiled softly.

The other girl smiled back.

"How was your oatmeal?" Santana asked, seeing that the girl had nearly finished the whole bowl. "I can go get you some eggs or something if you'd like?"

Rachel shook her head. "No thank you, I'm quite alright. I don't eat eggs anyway."

"You don't eat eggs? Why not?"

"I'm a vegan." Rachel said plainly.

"A vegan? That's cool. I've never met a vegan before. When did that start?" Santana asked.

"When I was seven, I went on a school field trip to a dairy farm, and once I saw how horrific those poor animals were being treated, I became a vegan. I'm quite happy with that choice." Rachel shyly put a piece of hair behind her ear.

A couple minutes later, Santana had finished her brunch and they returned back to Rachel's room. Pulling out her schedule, Santana read the next task and quickly folded it and returned it to her dress pocket. Rachel sat on her windowsill while Santana walked back to the door.

"I'll be right back, okay? I'm just going to gown down to the pharmacy to get your medication." Santana informed her cautiously.

Rachel turned around and smiled. "Okay."

Santana had felt awkward saying the word medication in front of Rachel. She had thought back to what Quinn was telling her yesterday.

_She's the craziest one here. _

So far, Rachel seemed more shy than crazy. But, she couldn't help but feel bad about her having to have someone take care of her and give her meds. She must feel incredibly terrible.

She wanted to get to know Rachel more. It was only the first time meeting her, but the way she hesitates before everything and the constant frightening look in her eyes every time she asked her a question, made Santana feel like there was definitely more to Rachel than anyone would see upon glance.

She reached the pharmacy window, where a twenty-something guy asked for Rachel's patient information and gave Santana four pills in two little cups. She took the two cups and returned to room 232. When she got there she saw Rachel sitting in the same spot she was in when she left.

"Hey, Rachel, here are your pills." Santana said, handing the girl the cups, not really knowing if there was a certain way to go about this.

"Thanks." Rachel took the pills, swallowing all four individually. Her face was blank.

Santana wanted to know what she was thinking.

"My supervisor said we can take a walk through the garden if you want." The Latina informed the motionless girl.

"No, thank you. I'd rather just stay here." Rachel replied, her eyes not leaving the window.

Santana walked up behind her, trying to see what she was looking at. Her room over looked the whole parking lot and some of the freeway in the distance. Santana had an idea of what she was thinking. She couldn't imagine how hard it must be to watch other people come and go and drive around when she was stuck here in the nut house.

"Okay." Santana couldn't leave her, so she just sat down in an empty chair next to the bed.

The two sat in silence for a while before Rachel startled Santana by speaking up.

"How old are you?"

She looked at Rachel. Her eyes still frightened, bit sincere. She was playing with the ends of her hair, as if she was nervous.

"I'm seventeen."

Rachel smiled. "Me too."

Santana nodded, even though she felt kind of awkward. She could barely take care of her little brother when she babysat him. How was she supposed to look after someone her own age?

"Where are you from?"

"Columbus."

Rachel's eyes lit up a little. "How far away is that?"

Santana shrugged. "A couple hours," Santana smirked at her, "I take it you've lived here your whole life?"

Rachel just nodded. "I've wanted nothing more than to just leave and never come back." She turned her attention back to the window.

Santana was puzzled by what Rachel had said. She could sense a lot deeper meaning than Rachel was letting on.

"Why'd you come here?" Rachel asked.

Santana turned her head. "Hmm?" she replied, not really listening.

"Why did you come here, to the Institute? If you were from a big city, why did you ever want to leave?" Rachel had such curiosity in her voice, as if she truly was amazed anyone would ever come to such a small place, it was so innocent.

Santana laughed. "Well, first of all, Columbus isn't even that big of a city," Her mood suddenly changed mid-sentence. She crossed her arms and huffed, "and second of all, I didn't choose to leave. I was forced to leave."

"Forced to leave?" Rachel asked with those innocent eyes.

"Yeah, I got in a shit-load of trouble and now I'm on probation. I'm working here as my community service. It was either this or jail."

Santana wondered if her answer had made Rachel feel like she didn't want to help her, but she was mistaken when the girl started giggling.

"This might as well be jail." Rachel laughed louder, her smile bigger than Santana had seen earlier. It made Santana start to laugh too.

Rachel stood up from the windowsill and sat down on her bed, leaning against the pillows. The bed was just like Santana's only instead, it was sticking out the middle of the room, rather than having one side up against the wall. The walls were the same boring beige, but instead they were decorated with posters of people and plays she had never heard of before. On the bedside table was a Hello Kitty alarm clock and a small lamp with pink and yellow tassels. It looked more like a room decorated for a seven-year-old and not a seventeen-year old.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed at you getting in trouble." Rachel grabbed a teddy bear from the bed and put in her lap, squeezing it for comfort.

Santana shook her head. "No, it's okay. I needed the laugh." She sat down on the foot of the bed, giving her and Rachel a good enough space between them.

Santana was itching to ask her a certain question, not knowing if she was crossing a line or not. She had just met the girl. She didn't want to pry.

She asked anyway. "Rachel, does anyone ever visit you? Your family?" Santana had sense she had hit a spot when she saw Rachel wince.

The girls shook her head. "No, no one ever visits me."

Feeling bad, Santana had decided to let it go, but Rachel continued.

"My parents dropped me of here and never came back."

Santana's mouth was open wide. Thinking it was rude, she closed her mouth and apologized. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It was years ago. I've moved on from them." She clearly hadn't. Her eyes were slightly watery.

Santana didn't know what to do in this situation. But when she was about to say something, her watched beeped, signaling that it was time for lunch.

The two went back down to the commissary, picking out lunch foods. Lunch was quiet. Neither of them spoke and Santana thought she had pushed Rachel too much. She should have known, though. Rachel was a patient. And as normal as she sort of seemed to Santana, she had to have been there for some reason. Santana didn't have the right to ask something so personal.

After lunch, was Rachel's therapy session. The therapy room consisted of nothing but two couches facing each other, with a coffee table in the middle. Rachel and Santana sat on one couch while her therapist, Dr. Folk, asked her a bunch of therapy-type questions.

"So, Rachel, how have you been adjusting to your new medications? Okay, I hope?" Dr. Folk asks her at the beginning of the session.

Rachel nods, not saying anything.

"Good. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your hallucinations you had experienced couple months ago? Have those gone away or do you still experience them from time to time?" He asks the brunette.

"I haven't really been seeing anything out of the ordinary." Rachel pulled at the ends of her hair, self consciously looking back at Santana.

Santana had a huge urge to leave. She didn't think she should be there. She hadn't known Rachel for more than a few hours and now she was listening in to what should be none of her business. But she knew she couldn't leave, so she remained quiet and let the doctor do his thing.

"That's great, Rachel. You have made marvelous improvements since our first visit. Doesn't it feel great knowing you are getting a little bit better?" Dr. Folk smiled.

Rachel shrugged.

Dr. Folk nodded, writing down things on a clip board. Then he turned to Santana.

"Miss Lopez, may I speak to you for a minute?"

Santana raised an eyebrow at the man. "Me?" He nodded once more and Santana stood up. "Okay, sure."

Dr. Folk led her out of the room and into an empty hallway.

"I am under the impression that someone has informed you of Rachel's current condition?" He asked her.

"Uh, no, not really." Santana remembered what the doctor report was in Rachel's file, but she was wondering if there was more.

The tall man shifted his weight before speaking again. "Rachel has dealt with hallucinations and memory loss on different levels for quite some time. As her aid, is it possible for you to do a couple of exercises with her? Ask her questions, get her to try to remember more things before her accident." He adjusted his glasses.

_Accident. _

That was the word that kept repeating in her mind. "Accident? What accident?"

"I'm sorry, that isn't something I can tell you. If Rachel wants to share, then it is her decision. It has taken a very large toll on her and she is quite sensitive about it." Dr. Folk looked down at his silver, expensive looking watch, and then brought his attention back to Santana. "So, do you think you can do that? The more time she spends exercising her brain and memory then the better chance at a full recovery."

"Yeah, I can do that." She replied, not really listening to herself talk. Her mind had drifted away from the conversation when Dr. Folk wouldn't tell her about Rachel's accident. Santana had always been the curious type. All she wanted to do was go back into the room and ask Rachel what he was talking about, but she wouldn't do that.

"Well, I have another session in a few minutes, so I must be going." He opened the door again, informing Rachel of his departure, and then retreating down the hallway.

Rachel stayed seated at the couch, playing with the ends of her long hair. Santana observed as she fidgeted with the pen in her hands, her knee shaking up and down anxiously. Santana walked up to her, putting her hand on the girl's shoulder.

Her hand was only there for a moment because the instance that Santana touched her, Rachel gasped loudly, yanking herself away from Santana looking more frightened than before. Santana jumped back, surprised with her hands up in front of her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Santana stopped short, noticing that the other girl's eyes were trimmed with tears. Her chest was heaving, as if she was panicking, but then a few moments later, she had recollected herself.

"No, I'm sorry…it's just a reflex." Rachel looked away.

A reflex?

Santana stared intently at Rachel. _What happened to you? _Santana thought.

Rachel shifted uncomfortably, while Santana stared. She brought herself back to reality and gave the girl a small smile.

"C'mon, there is a movie showing in the common room. It'll help get your mind off things." Santana offered.

Rachel smiled back, her sunniness temporarily restored.

* * *

After the movie and a short chicken and salad dinner (chicken for Santana, salad for Rachel), the two girls found themselves back in Rachel's room, with Rachel sitting against the pillows and Santana sitting on the foot of the bed again.

Santana thought of what Dr. Folk asked her to do. Should she ask her now? They still didn't know each other well and Santana was not sure where to start. She didn't want her only patient hating her. _Just do it Santana. You know that not knowing is killing you. _

"Why are you here?" She blurted. Rachel was staring at her and Santana realized what she had just said. "I – I mean, what…brought you here?" she rephrased.

Rachel looked Santana in a weird way. It was if she was having a battle with herself whether she should trust Santana or not. Whether she should tell her or not.

Rachel's voice trembled a little, but she collected herself before speaking. "I don't remember." She tucked her hair behind her shoulders and grabbed a small white blanket with a bunch of holes in it. She cradled the blanket in her arms. "I was nine and I was at the park with my fathers. I had wandered off to look at the water that was under this bridge…" She closed her eyes, "the next thing I knew, I was falling and I crashed into the water. That's all I remember."

Then Rachel starts crying. Santana doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know what to say in this situation.

_Why did I have to ask her that, you idiot. She lost her memory when she fell of a freaking bridge! Way to go, dumbass. _

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that." Santana apologized. She didn't do well with tears.

"No, that's not it." Rachel squealed through her tears, "I can't…I can't remember your name."

Santana shushed her, trying to calm her down. "It's okay, Rach, my name is Santana. You don't have to get upset." She smiled softly. "Here" Santana slowly scooted closer to Rachel.

Rachel hiccupped and looked at Santana. She silently watched with wide eyes as the girl gently wiped her tears away with her thumb.

They sat there, not saying anything, their faces close together. Their breathing was in sync.

Santana looked into Rachel's brown eyes. They reminded her of hot chocolate.

They had been sitting there for about fifteen minutes when she noticed the clock behind Rachel's head.

"I'm sorry, I have to go clock out." Santana said distractedly, still looking into Rachel's eyes. She gulped and slowly rose from her position on the bed, where Rachel remained, looking somewhat like a lost puppy.

She awkwardly backed out of the room and opened the door. She was about to walk out and Rachel's small voice stopped her. She turned around.

"Santana?"

Gulp. "Yes?"

Rachel hesitated. "I'm…I'm glad you are my new aid."

Santana's lips tugged into a shy smile. _When in the world has Santana "Badass"Lopez ever been shy? _"I'm glad too. I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that, Santana raced to clock out and immediately returned to her room. She ripped of her dress, not even bothering to take a shower. She just wanted to sleep.

She flopped onto her bed, face first. She groaned into her pillow in exhaustion and frustration. She didn't last long in that position because she couldn't breathe, so she reluctantly turned her body around, looking up at the ceiling.

It wasn't long before she hit herself in the face with her pillow again.

"_Dios mio."_

* * *

**Hey guys! Man that was a lot of writing! Well I hoped you liked it and PLEASE review. Please please please! See you next time**

**-Katie**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to everyone who has review or followed or added this story as a favorite. Means so much! Enjoy this chapter and review!**

**I don't own anything.**

* * *

The next morning, Santana got up before her alarm. She quickly showered, applied her makeup, and got herself dressed in khakis and her polo all within twenty minutes. She had just finished brushing her teeth when she saw the clock and realized she still well over an hour before she had to clock in. She sighed heavily, putting down the toothbrush.

What was she going to do now?

She was a little hungry, she thought, putting a hand on her stomach, but decided she'd wait to eat with Rachel.

Rachel.

Rachel was why Santana had gotten up so early. She was anxious to see her and Santana had absolutely no clue why. She had only known Rachel for like, what? A day and half? Still, she couldn't be intrigued by the girl. She was so timid and frazzled, yet, at the same time she had this…kiddish joy almost. Those were two personalities Santana didn't think usually went together. She also thought about what Rachel's therapist has said. How was she supposed to get Rachel to remember what happened to her? She barely the girl, not to mention what happened the last time she asked her about her accident.

Santana looked back at the clock and saw she still had thirty minutes left. For five of them, she just sat on her bed and stared around the room, not knowing what to do until she got an idea. She opened up her desk drawer where she put all of Rachel's papers. She read through more of her evaluation papers.

_Miss Berry seems to be quite the emotional wreck at the moment. She claims to have been seeing strange things at night such as her father humming in the bathroom. Her memory isn't as good as I hoped. She can't remember anything prior to the age of seven and she still refuses to answer my questions about her accident. Whether she remembers and does not wish to relive it, or simply cannot remember, I cannot tell at the moment._

_-Dr. Reginald Folk, PhD _

_2/23/05_

2005? That would have made Rachel eleven years old.

"Oh, god…" Santana whispered. Rachel has been stuck in this house of crazies since she was nine, for _eight _years, with no family, no visitors, and from what Quinn had informed Santana upon her arrival, she probably never had friends either. She imagines how lonely Rachel probably is. How much she must hate it here.

After reading that paper, Santana decided she was done and left her room, even if she was a couple minutes early.

She clocked herself in, saying hello to Olivia on her way, then immediately went up to Rachel's room. The door was closed this time, so she knocked.

"Yes?" Santana heard Rachel call from the other side of the door.

"Hey, Rach. It's me, Santana." She answered back.

A small pause later and Rachel thrusts the door open, a large smile pasted on her face.

"Good morning, Santana." Rachel greeted.

Santana laughed, giving Rachel a look. "Good morning to you too, Starshine. You seem happy today."

"I'm happy to see you." Rachel replied.

Santana looked back at Rachel, her mouth in a half smile, but she wasn't paying attention to much else.

_She's happy to see me. _

Santana didn't understand why a simple statement such as that had puzzled her so much, but she decided to ignore her thoughts for the moment.

"Ready for breakfast?" Rachel asked brightly.

"Uh, yeah." Santana answered, her attention back to Rachel.

The two girls left doorway and headed toward the commissary. Santana observed how Rachel walked. She sort of strode, almost in a skip and she held her hands behind her back. She was humming, which made Santana giggle (giggle?) at her childlike behavior.

When they reached their destination, Rachel went ahead and grabbed a tray and helped herself to a serving of cereal.

They sat at the same table as yesterday and began to eat. Santana noticed how Rachel was watching her as she ate her bacon.

"Oh, do you want some?" Santana offered her one of her pieces.

"Oh, no thank you. I'm Jewish." Rachel declined.

Santana smiled. "Cool. I have a friend who is Jewish. His name is Puck and he's pretty badass, but he takes his religion very seriously."

"Puck? That's a more interesting name that yours."

Santana laughed. "Well, his real name is Noah. Noah Puckerman. In the sixth grade, there were two Noah's in our class, so he just had everyone call him Puck. I guess it just sort of stuck." She explained.

Rachel nodded, taking another spoonful of her Lucky Charms.

Santana was finishing up her eggs when she noticed a very excited Brittany waving at her from across the room. Next to her was Quinn who simply nodded her head.

Santana waved back, which caught Rachel's attention. She followed the direction of Santana's gaze.

"You're friends with Quinn Fabray?" Rachel asked, incredulously.

"I would call it her a friend really, I only talked to her once." Santana replied, guessing that Rachel wasn't too fond of the blonde.

Rachel looked down at her food. "Last year, she set my favorite sweater on fire."

"What? Why?" Santana asked, looking back at Quinn, who happened to be scowling back at them.

"She said that she wanted to punch me in the face every time I wore it." Rachel said quietly.

Santana was about to reply when the blonde herself came up to their table with Brittany close behind her.

"Hey, Santana," Quinn smiled at her, "Hey RuPaul," she spat at Rachel, and then turned her attention back towards Santana. "What are you doing talking to her?"

Santana furrowed her brow, "I'm her aid."

Quinn let out a haughty laugh. "Good luck with that!" she handed Santana her uneaten protein bar. "Here, you'll need all the energy you can get to try to reign in her crazy."

"Hey," Santana responded sharply, while Rachel just sat their silently, looking at her hands. "Don't talk about her like that, okay?"

"And what are you gonna do, huh? You going to _tell _on me? It's not like anyone would do anything. I'm _crazy._" Quinn said wide-eyed and full of sarcasm.

Who does this bitch think she is?

Santana stood up abruptly, her chair scooting back. She walked over to Quinn, getting all up in her face.

"Look sweetheart," Santana speaking calmly at first, "I know you may think you're top dog around here and that you can do and say anything to make yourself feel better, and that's great, good for you. But I don't roll that way. Now you can apologize and get lost, or you get over whatever that sob story of yours is about how you got here and leave Rachel alone."

Quinn gave Santana a piercing look, her eyes raging. "You don't know _anything _about me." She spun fiercely around on her feet, grabbing Brittany by the wrists, pulling her out the door. Brittany, silent but cheery, waved Santana goodbye.

Santana huffed and sat back down. She looked up to find Rachel staring at her.

"You didn't have to do that. You didn't have to defend me." Rachel said quietly, her eyes wide with silent mortification.

Santana shook her head. "No, that Quinn is a bitch, okay? You don't deserve to be talked like that," she cautiously put her hand on top on Rachel's, not wanting to freak her out, "I got your back, okay?"

Rachel gave a small smile, nodding, "Okay."

* * *

After they were done eating, they put their trays in the bins and walked toward the exit. Santana was about to go to the elevator to go to Rachel's room when, the girl stopped her.

"Wait, I think I'd like to take that walk in the garden today." Rachel was tugging nervously at her hair again.

"No problem," Santana said, attempting to ease Rachel of her nervousness.

After taking fifteen minutes just to find the garden, the two girls walked side by side down the rows of flowers and plants. They were the only ones there and some of the sprinklers were on.

"Santana?"

"Hmm?"

The shorter girl looked up to the taller. "Can I ask you something?"

"Uh, sure. Go ahead."

"What did you get in trouble for?"

Santana stopped walking, looking back at Rachel. She didn't know if she wanted to Rachel or not.

"I got caught shoplifting." She finally answered.

They began walking again. "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why were you shoplifting?" Rachel asked.

Santana realized that Rachel wasn't as cautious as she was when it came to asking personal questions. She was curious and said what she was thinking.

Santana shrugged her shoulders. "Um, I don't know. I was bored, I guess. It was stupid, I know."

Seemingly satisfied with Santana's answer, Rachel asked nothing else. They walked for a while before settling down an metal bench in the middle of the garden.

"I don't know if Dr. Folk has told you already, but I have a bit of a memory problem." Rachel said quietly.

Santana placed her hands in her lap. "Yeah, I know."

"I can't remember a lot of things. Like when you asked me yesterday about when I became a vegan? I was so surprised I remembered that." Rachel glanced at the Latina.

"It must be scary. Not knowing things that have happened in the past?" Santana tried to imagine what it must be like for Rachel. Her parents left her and never returned, she can't remember a lick about her life, all while being constantly viewed under a looking glass and having her things burned by Quinn. She couldn't help but admire Rachel. She seemed so strong.

"Kind of."

Things went back to being silent. Rachel got up and wandered over to some of the daisies. Santana observed from the bench while Rachel sniffed and picked.

Santana noticed how the sun seemed to shine just directly on Rachel. She was glowing, her hair and her skin almost angel-like.

_She's so beautiful. _

Rachel turned around away from the flowers. "Santana? Do you mind if we return to my room now?"

Santana smiled at Rachel. "Yeah, sure."

They had spent most of the afternoon in Rachel's room. When they weren't at lunch, or therapy or in the activities room, they stayed on the bed and tried their hardest not to make it awkward.

"Who is that?" Santana asked, pointing to the large poster on Rachel's ceiling.

Rachel gasped. "You don't know who the Great Barbra Streisand is?" Rachel asked incredulously.

"Um…no?"

"She is only the most talented and sensational performer to ever grace the Broadway stage!" Rachel went to her dresser to fetch a small bulletin board that had a bunch of pictures of people in fancy costumes and shiny awards, not to mention a large selection of gold star stickers. "That's what I want to do when I get out of here. I want to be on Broadway." Rachel's eyes were beaming with a sort of innocent optimism. It made Santana smile.

"Well you certainly do have the pipes for it." Santana had never heard anyone with a better voice.

"Thanks," Rachel put the board down beside her chair, "What do you want to do?"

"To be honest, I really don't know."

Santana had always felt stuck when it came to her future. Everyone else around her seemed to have everything figured out. Hell, even Puck knows that he wants to start a pool cleaning business in California after high school. Santana didn't know anything. Her parents have always pressed the idea of college, but for some reason, Santana didn't think college was for her. She wanted to do something more.

"I-I think I'd like to be a songwriter."

Rachel's face lit up, rushing over to sit next to her aid. "A songwriter? You write songs?"

Santana suddenly felt shy. "Um, sometimes. They aren't really songs, but more like poetry. I don't know. I think it would sound cool."

That wasn't really true. Santana wrote songs all the time. She can't remember how she fell into it, but somehow, every time something bad would happen or she would get in trouble, Santana had found an outlet into writing. She never told anyone about it. It would have ruined her street cred.

"It sounds amazingly cool! Do you sing?" Rachel was really excited. Not only had she found a somewhat friend in Santana, but they had a similar interest. Rachel felt like she was on cloud nine.

Santana rubbed a hand behind her neck. _When have I ever been so timid? _"I don't really sing."

"Well you have to sing at least sometimes to see if your writing sounds good, right?"

"I guess, but –"

"Wonderful!" Rachel leapt up from the bed to her CD player. She popped in a disk and pressed play.

The music began to fill the room and Santana recognized the song immediately.

"_Give me a second I, I need to get my story straight_

_My friends are in the bathroom getting higher than the Empire State_

_My lover he's waiting for me just across the bar_

_My seat's been taken by some sunglasses, asking 'bout a scar and…"_

Rachel jumps around the room while she sings, in her own little zone. Santana laughs as she watches the show.

"_I know I gave it to you months ago, I know you're trying to forget_

_But between the drinks and subtle things, the holes in my apologies, you know_

_I trying hard to take it back_

_So if by the time the bar closes and we feel like falling down, I'll carry you home…"_

Rachel skips to Santana, singing brightly with her signature smile as she takes Santana's hands, trying to get her to dance from her position on the bed.

"_Tonight…we are young! So let's set the world on fire, we can burn brighter than the sun!_

_Tonight, we are young, So let's set the world on fire, we can burn brighter than the sun…"_

Rachel stepped back, biting her lip, gesturing to Santana to sing the next verse. She sighed, shaking her head. _Well, here goes._

"_Now I know that I'm not all that you got, I guess that I, I just thought maybe we could find new ways to fall apart…"_

Rachel rushed and turned of the music. "Santana, that was incredible! You have a amazing voice."

"Really?" the Latina questioned.

"Really! It's so raspy and unique. You're very talented. I would know, I'm talented too." Rachel said with a serious expression, which made Santana laugh.

"Seriously, Santana. You could have a future in performing. Don't you think it could be fun to be able to sing and travel the world?" Rachel asked sincerely. Santana could tell that Rachel wanted nothing more than to do just that.

"I never really thought about it before."

They did nothing else for a while. Dinner wasn't for another twenty minutes and they really had nothing else to do. Rachel lay down on her bed, facing the ceiling and humming while Santana watched her intently.

"So what's up with that Quinn chick? It's like she has some pole up her ass." Santana asked the other girl. Ever since that morning, she had been curious as to what the blonde meant.

_You don't know anything about me._

"No one really knows. All I know is that she's been here for two years and she hates everyone, well except for Brittany Pierce." Rachel answered quietly, still facing the ceiling. She was thinking about her sweater. "If there was anything else that I knew, I can't remember….oh, yeah, and she had an eating disorder."

So this Quinn had an eating disorder and hates everyone. She must have had some sort of insecurity issue, Santana couldn't really see why. The chick was freaking gorgeous. Either way, she was going to find out, if not for her, at least then to get her to stop picking on Rachel.

Santana got up and walked to Rachel. "Hey, you want to get some dinner?" she held out her hand.

Rachel smiled, gladly taking the hand. "Sure."

They went down to eat and both got salads. They talked about Broadway and New York, a subject Rachel was never too shy to talk about. They talked about music and singing. Santana told Rachel about Columbus and Puck and her family. Rachel didn't talk about hers. They laughed when Santana had flung a tomato across the room with her fork, accidentally hitting a man in the head. They laughed even harder when the man that he was being attacked and ran out of the room. Santana had never felt so connected to a person before. With Puck, it was all about the money and the schemes and the booze. With Rachel, Santana found herself forgetting all those things for once, acting more and more like herself.

"I've never had a friend before." Rachel admitted, her eyes innocent and wide.

Santana smiles back at her in reassurance.

"You do now."

* * *

After they were kicked out of the commissary for being too loud, the two brunettes went back to Rachel's room. They sung top hits and Rachel introduce her to a little bit of Broadway. As Rachel danced around the spacious room, her white holey blanket wrapped around her neck as she belted out her own rendition of "I'm the Greatest Star", Santana sat in the corner on the floor and began to write. For the first time in a long time, the words found their way to the paper more easily than they ever had before. Word after word, they all came to her as she watched the petite girl sing.

Taking a break from writing, Santana turned over a page in her book and began to draw Rachel instead. She had always been fairly good at art. She couldn't draw anything other than people, but she got many compliments in the past of her drawings. She drew Rachel exactly how she was. On the page was a small teenager with long brown curls and a big nose. She had a white holey blanket wrapped around her neck and she was dancing around, happy. The most significant part of the picture was the big, bright smile on the girls face. It was Santana's favorite thing about the drawing.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked, still dancing around.

Santana turned the notebook around to show Rachel her masterpiece. "I drew a picture of you."

Rachel stopped dancing and slowly walked over to the picture. She crouched down to Santana's level and took the notepad, inspecting the picture.

"This is amazing, Santana." Rachel complimented quietly.

The Latina shook her head. "No, you're amazing Rachel."

Rachel just looked at Santana. She didn't say anything. Her eyes were innocent and but Santana could see that the girl was caught off guard by her words. Suddenly, Santana's cheeks felt hot and she knew she was blushing.

_Oh, god. Why did I have to say that? _

Santana was afraid she the wrong thing. "I – um, I" she stuttered, embarrassed.

Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear.

"No one has ever called me amazing before…" she looked out the window, "at least I don't think so."

"Rach, you are amazing. Don't let anyone tell you different, okay?" Santana told her, slightly still embarrassed.

Rachel bit her lip, nodding.

Santana was about to let the conversation go when she remembered something.

"Hey, Rachel. When was the last time you left the institute? Like, when was the last time you've been, like, outside?"

Rachel pulled at her curls. "I haven't."

"You haven't? Out of all the years you have been trapped here, they never let you out just once?" Santana asked doubtfully.

Rachel shook her head. "The only time I really get out is when I go out to the garden."

An idea hatched inside Santana's criminal mind and an excited smile crept onto her lips.

Rachel raised her eyebrow in confusion of her aids sudden change in facial expression. "Santana?"

Santana grabbed Rachel's hand. "Hey, meet me in front of the commissary before brunch is open tomorrow, okay?"

Rachel was confused. "Why?"

"It's a surprise." Santana smiled widely.

Rachel, still confused, returned the smile and laughed. "Okay."

"Okay, see you bright and early." Santana told the girl before leaving the room.

She had an idea and she was going to make sure that tomorrow was going to be a day Rachel Berry wouldn't forget.

* * *

**Hope you liked the chapter and PLEASE review! Thanks so much!**

**-Katie **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, so I just found out that you could see how many people viewed each chapter and 399 people viewed the last chapter and only 6 people reviewed so…please please review. I don't care if it is in a different language, I just want a response from you guys. So now onto the next chap.**

* * *

Santana stood anxiously by the rose bushes. She was fidgeting with her fingers, tugging on the ends of the of her black hair. She was standing in the back of the garden, waiting for Rachel. They had originally agreed to meet in front of the commissary, but Santana had come up with a better idea.

It was early, six-thirty or so. Surely no one would see them in the garden this early, Santana hoped no one did. She couldn't afford to get caught. She lifted her head up in time to see a giddy Rachel Berry, skipping her way over. Santana couldn't help but watch her as she made her way over. She noticed that her hair that was usually parted in the middle was neatly combed to the side, with her bangs clipped back with a yellow barrette. Santana smiled at her even brighter smile, grinning at her sweater which had an owl on it. She looked cute. But most of all Santana noticed the small scar on her forehead just below her hairline, about the size of a thumbnail.

The Latina scolded herself for staring. _Damn, I got to stop doing that._

"Hey, San!" Rachel cheerfully greeted.

Santana raised an eyebrow. "San?"

"Well, you called me Rach yesterday. I wanted to give you a nickname, too." Rachel pulled on her sleeve sheepishly.

Santana put a hand on her patient's shoulder. "Hey, you can call me whatever you want." She smiled down at Rachel in reassurance.

After a moment of silence, Rachel smirked at Santana.

"So, you feel like informing me on why we're out here so early?"

"Well, as you know, today's my day off and I really didn't feel like wandering around here all day."

"I don't see how this involves me…"

Santana laughed, "Well, seeing as it is a wonderful day, I felt it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up," Santana smirked, pausing, "I am taking you out today."

Rachel's brown eyes grew big and wide. "O-out?"

Santana gestured beyond the garden gates, "Out."

Clearly overwhelmed, the small brunette covered her mouth with her hand before jumping up and down, giggling. Rachel then grabbed Santana into an embrace. The taller girl cautiously wrapped her arms around the other, almost smiling, her heart started racing at the sudden touch. It felt…good.

All too soon, Rachel let go of Santana, leaving the girl's arms empty. Still, Santana smiled down at her, not wanting her embarrassment to show.

Rachel shook her head. "San, thank–"

Santana stopped her, not wanting the girl to get emotional. "Don't mention it, Rach. Now let's get out of here before someone catches us and ruins my brilliant plan."

"What if someone notices I'm gone…?"

Santana shrugged. "I guess we'll find out when we return."

Santana had never seen someone smile so big.

* * *

It didn't take long to get Rachel past the gates. After their meeting in the garden, Santana went back inside, waving goodbye to Olivia on her way out the door. Once outside, Santana rushed to the garden gates, letting Rachel out into the real world for the first time in eight years.

It was something Santana had never seen before. She watched Rachel as she slowly walked down the sidewalk, taking each step with caution, as if she had spent many months at sea, finally touching the ground again.

_I guess she is in a way…_

Santana took her hand, smiling in reassurance and Rachel laughed.

"Let's go!"

The two girls ran around the corner stopping at a bus stop.

"I've never been on a bus before." Rachel said, excitedly.

"You haven't?" Santana asked.

"I don't know…I can't remember!" Rachel laughed, causing Santana to go in a laughing fit with her.

The bus soon came, with an ecstatic Rachel pulling Santana in by the arm. The two scurried all the way to the back of the bus, situating themselves in the second-to-last row. Santana let Rachel have the window.

Rachel's face was instantly glued to the window as the bus drove away as she watched the institute become smaller and smaller. She looked at everything, her eyes bright and wide. She took in every detail of everything around her, like she was in a whole other world. Santana quietly observed from the seat next to Rachel. It was like seeing a child experience Disneyland for the first time, seeing things that they never knew were possible. Santana grinned.

Rachel let out a sigh of content, turning from the window for a moment. "Santana, where are we going?"

"Hmm, what do you mean?" Santana replied, coyly.

Rachel giggled. "What I mean is, we're out, but we're on a bus, so that means we are going somewhere."

Santana smirked, "If I told you, my surprise would be ruined. You'll just have to wait until we get there."

Obviously not hearing the answer she wanted to hear, Rachel stuck out her lip, making a pouty face.

_Jesus, that's cute…_

"Oh, no! You're not getting it out of me that easy. No, we're going to play a game so you aren't distracted." She said, purposefully interrupting her thoughts.

Rachel's brown eyes lit up. "What kind of game?"

Santana thought for a moment. She usually hated silly car-ride games, but she figured Rachel would get a kick out of them. After all, this whole endeavor was for Rachel.

"How about… I Spy?"

Rachel made a face. "What's that?"

"You've never played I Spy before?"

"I don't know."

Rachel's voice then became serious. Santana didn't know what to do. She felt as if she was always saying the wrong things in front of Rachel, making her think about her accident.

After an awkward silence, Santana cleared her throat, and began to speak again. "Well, it's pretty easy. All you do is look for something that you see, and say whatever color that is, like 'I spy something red' and then I have to guess what it is."

Rachel nodded. "I think I can do that…"

"You wanna go first?"

"Um…you can go first."

Santana laughed and looked around herself, until she landed on something. "Okay, I spy something orange."

"Uh, is it that sign over there?" Rachel pointed outside to a construction sign on the sidewalk.

Santana smiled, "Yes," she lied.

Rachel jumped in her seat, clapping for herself. "Yay! Okay, okay, my turn…um, I spy something…green." She finally settled on a color.

Santana looked at her surroundings, scouring for something green. There was a green book sticking out of some kid's bag, there was a green sticker in the front of the bus, and there was, of course, the grass outside the moving vehicle.

"Is it, that kid's book?"

The shocked look on Rachel's face told Santana that she was right, but Rachel was stubborn. "No.."

Santana gasped, pointing at Rachel. "Liar! That was totally it!"

"No, it wasn't!"

"Oh, yes it was!" Santana, screeched, poking Rachel in the shoulder.

Rachel giggled and the two girls couldn't contain their laughter. They only stopped to control themselves when the bus driver told them to "quiet down back there."

"Okay, you go." Rachel urged, still giggling.

Santana stopped her laughter and was all of a sudden focused on Rachel's face. It looked smooth and was blemish free, her cheeks pink. Her nose was large and prominent, but it suited her. And then there was the scar. What was it from? How long did she have it? Did she know that she had it? It was just another thing that stumped Santana. This girl in front of her, she was so…mysterious. She was her own slew of oxymorons. Her smile was so bright and inviting, yet she became reserved when something about her memory was brought up. She had this child-like personality that was all her own, but she seemed more mature than anyone Santana had ever met. She was so sure of herself, yet so unaware of who she was.

"Brown. I spy something brown."

Rachel tapped her chin, humming. "Brown, eh? Well, let's see, is it that tree over there?"

"No." Santana's gaze never left Rachel.

"That soup can?"

"No."

"My shoes?"

"Nope."

Rachel huffed. "Well, what is it then?" she said, giving up.

Santana gulped, her breath somewhat uneasy.

"Your eyes."

The ones Santana was staring into, the ones in question, blinked. She wanted to know what Rachel was thinking. She _had _to know what she was thinking.

When Rachel hadn't said anything, Santana turned away slightly, feeling immensely more awkward. She cleared her throat. "Um, I'm sorry, that was…uh, that was weird." She apologized, shaking her head.

_Why the hell did you say that? Now she probably thinks you're some creep. _

Santana grabbed her black Jansport. She prepared for this trip, bringing some small games, magazines, music and some food she smuggled from the commissary when they obviously oblivious staff weren't looking. The Latina pulled out a stack of cards and waved them in the air. She needed a change of subject.

"C'mon, I'll teach you how to play Go Fish."

They spent the majority of the bus ride playing card games and listening to music. They talked. They talked a lot. They talked about music (which consisted of Santana trying to persuade Rachel to listen to something other than show tunes), they talked about Santana's old school, and her family. They didn't talk about Rachel's family. They didn't talk about her illness. They laughed. They laughed _a lot. _Santana never realized Rachel was so funny. Everything they talked and joked about ended with a laughing fit and a threat to be thrown off the bus. They just…clicked. The longer they conversed, the stronger the feeling in Santana's gut became. And of course, she ignored it.

Four hours later, the bus came to a stop.

"This is us." Santana informed, urging Rachel to get up?

"Where are we?" Rachel asked, looking around.

"We're in Aurora."

A brow was furrowed. "Why are we in Aurora?"

Santana responded by merely pointing out the window, smirking.

Curious, Rachel whipped around, following her finger. When she saw it, the small girl gasped. She turned back to face Santana again, her expression full of excitement and unbelief.

"No way!"

Santana laughed, "Yes, way. Now come on, slow poke." But Santana didn't have to tell Rachel twice, for she got up from her seat and ran out of the bus faster than Santana could say anything else. She followed her out.

Santana stepped off the bus, looking out at the crowded parking lot for Rachel. She spotted her across the way, staring up in awe.

"Santana, what _is _this place?"

"It's called Six Flags. It's an amusement park."

"Well it sure does look amusing." Rachel reassured.

The two girls set off for the entrance and Santana paid for their tickets. When she left for the Institute, she took all her cash that she had stashed under her bed with her that she had gotten from the stolen things she had pawned. That's what she and Puck did. They kept the good stuff , and pawned the rest.

They got inside and Rachel took in all the business and excitement, her persona filled with awe.

"So, what do you want to do first?" Santana asked her from behind.

Rachel turned. "What do you mean?"

Santana gestured to all the rides, waving her hands around. "I mean, which ride do you want to go on first?"

Rachel's eyes grew wide. "We're going to go on _those _things?"

"They're fun! You'll love it."

"Are they safe?"

Santana laughed and reached out for Rachel, gripping each of her elbows lightly, her fingers tingling at the touch.

_Since when did she become so touchy? _

"Rach, they are perfectly safe, and a shit load of fun. And we're going to ride them because that's what we're here for. To have fun, right?" Santana smiled down at Rachel.

And Rachel smiled back. "Right.

* * *

The two girls raced each other to the nearest ride, a rollercoaster called the Roar. It was a huge contraption made entirely out of wooden planks. Santana glanced over at Rachel, who was biting her lip nervously. They watched as the current riders screamed above, the tracks moving from side to side and the wood cricketing.

"This sure doesn't look safe…"

Santana rolled her eyes playfully, dragging the girl onto the rollercoaster. The employees strapped them all in and they were ready to go. The car jerked forward and it slowly began creeping up to the top.

"Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god…" Rachel chanted as they got closer and closer to the top. She closed her eyes in terror.

"Hey," Santana called softly, "look at me."

Rachel peeked one eye open at Santana, then the other.

"I'm right here." Santana looked right into her eyes.

Rachel nodded, slightly incoherent, then returning her gaze forward t focus on the fall below. They got closer and closer and then the car fell right down the steep track.

Rachel screamed, grabbing Santana's hand immediately.

They whipped and twisted and turned, going up and down and around while every screamed and laughed, all except Santana who remained focused on the five warm fingers on top of her hand.

The ride came to a stop and Santana quickly shook off her flushed look. They got out of the car and Santana looked down at Rachel expectantly.

Rachel remained quiet until a megawatt smile came across and she began clapping her hands together.

"That was amazing! Not just amazing, it was exhilarating!" Santana laughed at Rachel's wild hair.

"See, Rach. I told you there was nothing to worry about."

"I must do that again!"

Throughout the day, Rachel was introduced to a whole slurry of firsts. Apart from her first roller coaster, she went on Bumper Cars for the first time and ate her first cotton candy.

Rachel's knees were currently bent, her eyes squinting in concentration. They were at one of the game stands and Rachel was attempting to knock down a pyramid milk bottles. She motioned her hand back and forth before eventually chucking the ping pong ball at the bottles (while also making a cute grunting noise), and the top three fell down to the floor.

"I did it!" Rachel congratulated herself.

The sleazy guy from inside the tent chuckled. "Close, but no cigar. Sorry, sweets."

Rachel frowned. "But I knocked over the bottles…"

"You knocked over _some _bottles, not all of 'em. To get the prize, you gotta hit all 'em."

Rachel crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You just said I had to hit the bottles. You never specified that I had to hit all of them."

"Well, toots, I'm tellin' you now that you had to hit all of 'em! Now, either go to the end of the line or beat it." He chuckled, wheezing. His hair was slicked over in a oily comb over and his breath reeked of garlic.

"Now look, Grease Face," Santana stepped in front of Rachel, her bitch face on, "let's get this straight. You don't talk to her like that again, or you'll face the wrath Miss Snix here, at trust me, you don't want that. I have razorblades hidden in my hair." Santana warned the guy, gesturing to her luxurious black mane. "And we aren't leaving because it's _my _turn. Give me the ball."

The guy eyed Santana as if he were determining whether she was for real or not, but he ultimately handed Santana the ball without another word.

_Smart guy. _

The Latina snatched the ball from his sweaty hands and turned to concentrate on the bottles ahead. She squinted with one eye, perfecting her aim, and thrust the ball in one swift throw, hitting the center of the pyramid, sending all the bottles to the floor.

Santana smirked at the dude, "I win."

He grunted. "Yeah, whatever. Just what do you want?"

She turned to a stunned Rachel, "Which do you want, Rach?" She gestured toward the wall of prizes.

Rachel smiled, "For me?"

"For you."

Rachel clapped happily and scanned over the wall. "Let's see…ooh, Santana, I want that one! That stuffed carousel horse up in the corner." Rachel said, pointing to it.

Santana nodded to the guy, "You heard the lady."

He grunted and reluctant grabbed the stuffed animal, chucking it at Rachel, hitting her in the face. Santana flipped him off before picking the carousel horse from the ground, handing it over to Rachel.

"Are you okay? That guy was a jerk."

"I more than okay, Santana that was amazing! Where did you learn to throw like that?" Rachel asked incredulously.

Santana just shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "I used to be a pitcher for softball." She hated people knowing she used to play softball. It was embarrassing and the stereotype didn't help her either.

Rachel opened her mouth to reply, but the words never left her mouth. She didn't have a chance to before a voice was to be heard screaming, "Duck!" followed by Rachel getting struck by a flying Frisbee. The Frisbee caught Rachel off guard, causing her to fall backwards into the fountain they had been standing next to.

"Oh, my god, Rachel!" Santana screamed. She ran over to the edge of the fountain, reaching her hand out for Rachel to hold on to, but Rachel didn't notice. The small brunette wailed and screaming, kicking and splashing, making water go everywhere.

"Santana!"

Santana bent over the fountain and grabbed Rachel by the waist, pulling her out of the fountain, drenched. Rachel coughed up some water, wrapping her arms tightly around Santana. Santana returned the grip, feeling Rachel tremble, and noticing all them people stare at them. She couldn't help but realize how strange this looked; two girls sitting on the concrete, one dripping wet, having a panic attack, while the other one holds them helplessly.

"Is she okay?" A middle aged woman asked them, concern on her face.

"Uh, yeah, she's just afraid of water." She didn't really know of Rachel was afraid of water, but her accident involved her falling off a bridge into a river, and by the way she was acting now, Santana had a good feeling that she was afraid of water.

Santana rubbed her back slightly, not knowing what to do, and after a while, Rachel slowly sat up, her eyes red from the tears.

"You okay, Rach?"

She was still trembling, but gave a small nod.

Santana pulled out her phone from her bag. It was almost four o'clock and they still had a four hour bus ride to catch.

"It's getting late, are you ready to go?" Santana asked gently.

Rachel nodded again and Santana stood up, helping Rachel up on her feet, her wet carousel horse in her arms.

The two soaked girls, one slightly more than the other, exited the park and made their way over to the bus stop where they waited fifteen minutes for their bus to come. They sat in the back row of the bus, far away from the curious eyes of those watching them. As soon as they sat down, Rachel fell asleep. Santana had sat there listening to her iPod, when Rachel's wet head slowly fell onto Santana's shoulder.

Santana froze. She looked down at the slumbering girl, seeing how peaceful she was. Her panic attack must have made her exhausted. Santana felt awkward. She didn't want to wake Rachel up by moving her head, but having her there made her skin tingle again.

She couldn't do this. She knew what the feeling was. She had felt it before. However, this time was different. Rachel wasn't just anyone, she was her patient. Her living, breathing, smiling, singing, _fragile, _patient. She just couldn't think about Rachel like that. Rachel can't remember half of her life! It'd be like taking advantage of her.

But mostly, she couldn't be with someone after…

_Don't you dare think about her, Santana. You swore you were going to get over it. _

Santana shook the thoughts out of her head. She had to stop herself from thinking about it, it was too soon.

For the rest of the bus ride, Santana thought about Rachel's panic attack. She thought about what she must have been feeling, or if any memories and resurfaced the moment she hit thought water. Santana figured she'd hear about it at their next therapy session.

The bus arrived in Lima at ten 'til eight. Santana hesitantly shook Rachel's shoulder, attempting to wake her. "Rach, wake up, we're here," she whispered.

The small diva slowly rose, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. When she took her hands away from her face, she looked up at Santana, smiling softly and sadly.

"Ready?" Santana asked her.

Rachel only nodded. "As I'll ever be."

They got off the bus and walked in the dark around the corner up to the garden gate.

"Stay here, okay? I'm going to go in and let you back in." Santana instructed her.

Rachel laughed. "Put me back in the dungeon."

Santana walked in the front doors of the institute, the smell of crazy still in the air. Olivia was at her desk and greeted Santana.

"Have a good day off, Santana?"

Santana smiled genuinely back. "The best."

She walked swiftly past the front desk and proceeded down many hallways until she reached the garden. She checked to make she no one was out there, then went up to the back gate, letting Rachel in. They traveled back inside and casually walked up to Rachel's room.

Rachel ran right in and flopped face first on the bed. Santana closed the door behind her and gave Rachel her now dry stuffed carousel horse back to her. Rachel took it graciously and put it on her pillows with the rest of her stuffed animals.

"Rach, you want something to eat? I think the kitchen's still open." Santana asked.

"Nah, I'm still full from that pretzel we shared." Rachel replied.

Santana smiled at the memory and sighed. She grabbed her backpack and walked towards the door.

"Well, I think I'm going to head to bed so, I guess I'll – "

"Santana, wait!" Rachel interrupted, calling out to her.

Santana turned and Rachel stood up approaching her. She wrapped her small arms around the Latina's waist and hugged her.

They stepped apart and Santana noticed Rachel's eyes watering.

"Thank you, Santana. Thank you so much. Today… this was seriously the best day I've had in a long time. Probably the best day of my life. It felt so good to be outside of these walls…just thank for letting me feel free again."

Then, without Santana expecting it, the tiny brunette pushed herself up onto her tippy toes and kissed her cheek. It was only a quick peck, but it was enough to leave Santana flushed and speechless.

"I, uh, um, you're welcome…I'll see you tomorrow then, Rach." Santana stuttered, then bolted out of the room. Santana fast-walked all the way back to her room, slamming the door behind herself. She leaned up against the door and face-palmed.

"What the hell…"

That night Santana tossed and turned trying to think of anything other than Rachel, but to no avail, all her thoughts kept returning to the same thing.

Santana Lopez had feelings for her patient.

* * *

**So that was the chap! I know it took a while, but I was in my school's fall play so I was super busy with that as well as AP test and blah blah blah. Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW. They make my days so much better! Thankss**

**-Katie. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Thanks for being patient with the wait and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Please review! **

* * *

_It was spring. The sun was beating down, but the heat was offset by a cooling breeze. It was Rachel's favorite kind of day. A perfect day to spend the afternoon in the park with her two favorite people: her dads. _

_She just got up from the slide, her hair standing up on all ends, when she noticed a white butterfly flutter past her face. The small nine-year-old's wide eyes followed the butterfly, instantly intrigued. _

_Rachel walked away from the jungle gym, away from oblivious parents, following the butterfly across the park. She chased the butterfly, her pigtails flying, giggling each time the butterfly flew out of her reach. Rachel found herself being led to a bridge, a white, intricately built bridge, overlooking the rushing river that ran below through the park. _

_Rachel watched as the butterfly flew down and under the bridge. She bent herself over the edge, not only searching for the butterfly in hopes of coming back, but also becoming entranced by the flowing waters. She was about to give up, accepting the fact that the butterfly was gone, when suddenly, she felt a force push her over the edge. Rachel screamed, and the last thing she noticed before she hit the water, were the sounds of her fathers' cries and the sight of two hands moving away from the edge. _

_She soon hit the freezing water, immediately getting rushed along with the current. When she fell, she hit her head fiercely on a pile of rocks in the water and soon, everything went black and every moment, every song, every memory of the years before were quickly erased. _

Rachel bolted from her pillow.

She was breathing heavily, and sweating, her bangs sticking to her forehead. Her knuckles were white from gripping her sheets so tight. She was crying.

"Santana…" she breathed, "Santana!"

Panicking, Rachel kept screaming Santana's name. She couldn't breathe. Even awake, she could feel herself being surrounded by water, the burning of her lungs as they desperately craved for air.

Amid all her screaming, a nurse bust through her door.

"Good, God, sweetie, what's wrong?" she asked in her tired, thick Midwestern accent.

"I need Santana, please, get me Santana!" She felt like she was choking. Any second now she could pass out and forget. She needed Santana.

* * *

Santana lay fast asleep in her dark room, her pillow over her head. She was drooling slightly, but she was content. Her awesome motorcycling dream was interrupted by a ramped knocking on her door.

Santana bolted straight up in surprise. She stayed still for a second, thinking it might be one of the crazies trying to murder her. After a couple of moments however, a voice from the other door sounded.

"Santana please, open up."

Santana growled as she looked at her clock. It was freaking four o'clock in the morning. Who the hell did they think they were waking her up at this hour. She would surely have bags under her eyes later.

"What?" she barked at the nurse on the other side of the door.

"I'm sorry for waking you up, Miss Lopez, but your patient has been screaming for you for over an hour. She seems to be pani–"

Santana dashed out of her room, ditching the nurse mid-sentence, speeding down the hall in her pajamas to Rachel's room. Her beauty sleep would be long forgotten.

* * *

She held on tightly to her carousel horse, sitting in the dark. She couldn't move to turn on the light.

Santana bust through the door without knocking. "Rach?"

"Santana?" she called out weakly. Santana turned on the light and saw a hysteric Rachel Berry sitting upright on her bed. She stalked over to her patient and Rachel collapsed into her arms.

Santana tried to shush her, combing her soft brown hair, much like she did after falling into that fountain.

_If only Puck could see me now…I'd never hear the end of this._

"Rach, shh…it's okay, you're okay. Tell me what happened."

Rachel tried her best to compose herself, but all she could do was stutter.

"I-I had a dream about my-my a-accident…"

Santana's eyes widened. "Did you remember more about it?"

Rachel nodded. "Y-yeah. I've always remembered falling b-but, this time I remembered what happened a-after."

Santana rubbed Rachel's back slightly, in an attempt to comfort her. It was something her mother did to help her calm down.

"Do you want to talk about what you remembered? You know you can trust me."

Santana gazed down into Rachel's puffy eyes, secretly pleading her to see how much she cared. But Santana couldn't let herself get attached to Rachel. So for now, she would just be there to comfort her.

"After I, uh, after I fell…I remember seeing these…hands from over the side and then I heard–" Rachel paused for a moment, fresh tears immerging. "I heard my Daddy crying for me just before I hit the water."

Santana really felt bad for Rachel. There she was, always complaining about how annoying her brother is, or how unfair it was that her parents didn't let her have a phone until she was sixteen, when Rachel's parents left her for –

_Wait – Did she say "hands", as in _hands_? _

"Hands? Rach, do you remember anything else about the hands? Skin color, size, masculine, feminine?" Santana asked her.

Rachel shook her head, "No. All I saw hands, generic hands."

A thought suddenly dawned on Santana. "Rach, do you think someone _pushed _you off that bridge?"

Rachel shrugged. "I don't know."

The small brunette looked out her window and gazed out at the still-dark sky of the early morning, squeezing her carousel horse. Santana put her hand on top of Rachel's. She was shaking.

"Rachel, you sure that's the only thing bothering you? You still seem pretty freaked out." Santana was kind of worried. She was acting the same as she had yesterday after her fall.

Rachel turned her head away from the window to face Santana. Her eyes were bright with fear and Santana felt like she couldn't do anything to help.

"I just…the water, just remembering almost drowning and the weight of the water and how I kept getting tossed by the current…it just was really scary to relive it."

"Relive it? In your dream?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you got upset when you fell into the fountain? Because it brought those memories?"

Rachel nodded in response. "Are you afraid of water then?"

The brunette shrugged. "I guess I am," the girl paused, only for a moment, as if she still had more to say. "I'm sorry for waking you up. I can tell you're tired, you probably don't want to listen to my problems…"

"Hey," Santana interrupted sharply, but softly. Her hand was placed on Rachel's petite shoulder and her head was shaking. "Don't say things like that. I'm here for you, okay? I know we only really just met…but, I want to take care of you Rachel, if you'll let me. You should know how special this makes you to me, because I never let people get close to me."

"Why not?"

Santana was taken aback slightly. That wasn't what she expected her to say. She expected for her to just thank you or something.

"What?"

"Why don't you let people get close to you?" Rachel repeated.

"Uh, I guess…I guess I just don't like not knowing what will happen," Santana looked down in her lap, not wanting to think about certain _things. _"I got hurt once, and I just don't let people in much because I don't want to get feel like that again…it made me feel like shit, I'll tell you that."

Rachel giggled and Santana smiled back. It was nice to see Rachel smile again after being so upset.

They were doing it again. Who knows how many times it had been since they first met, but the two girls couldn't help staring deeply into each other's eyes. It was something about how deep they felt and the feeling of being so connected without saying any words.

_I would give anything to know what she's thinking…_

"I would never hurt you." Rachel's sincerity was reflected in her tone.

Without breaking their trance, the Latina smiled softly and replied, "I know."

The way Rachel looked that morning, it made Santana's chest get tighter, her stomach queasy. There in front of her was a beautiful and miserable looking girl, her patient, and for the first time in a really long time, Santana was happy. She was at peace, and she was happy.

Rachel yawned and Santana sensed all the crying had made her tired. She got up to leave, but Rachel called her back.

"Stay with me?"

And that's when Santana felt her body move to the bed and lay down next to her patient. She wasn't even thinking anymore when she wrapped her arms around the other girl's stomach. It had felt right and Rachel and Santana fell quickly to sleep, comfy in each other's arms.

* * *

Santana awoke to a strange warmth and a particular heaviness on her side that she wasn't used to having. She sat up straight, trying to familiarize herself with her current surroundings.

_Why am I in Rachel's room? Since when did the light shine so brightly through her window?_

The Latina heard breathing next to her and saw Rachel sleeping peacefully.

Santana knew that in her whole life, she had never seen anyone as beautiful as Rachel looked at that moment.

Suddenly, she jumped right out of the bed. (More like fell out of the bed because her feet had been tangled in the sheets)

_Who are you? Who is this person? This person that shows…compassion and feelings. Some person who doesn't feel the need to steal or lie anymore. Ever since you got put in this stupid place you've been different. You've gone out of your way to make sure Rachel has felt okay and safe and you're even trying to protect her from yourself._

_You like her. _

"No, I don't." Santana voiced aloud, shutting her eyes.

_Yes, you do. _

"No, I can't."

_And why not? You can't just let yourself suffer. _

"She's…she's more fragile than I am."

_All the more reason to. She's fragile, like you said, and she needs someone to take care of her. _

Santana stopped herself right there. She couldn't believe she was actually talking to herself. Almost a week here, and she is already going insane.

That's just perfect.

Santana's thoughts were interrupted when she heard Rachel stir. She stood across the room and watched Rachel awake. She watched how the pink sheets slid off her bare, tan shoulders. She noticed the squeak that escape her mouth as she stretch her limbs from slumber. She observed the girl as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, finally opening her eyes to see Santana standing, watching her.

"Oh, hello."

"Hi."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Not long," she swallowed.

"Santana thank you so much for staying with me last night, you don't know how much–"

" I have to tell you something." Santana interrupted.

Rachel stopped her thought and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Oh, okay."

"Rachel, I'm gay."

From her crisscrossed position on her bed, Rachel blinked.

Santana didn't know what to think of her patient's silent reaction, so she kept talking.

"I hope that's alright. I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable, or regret asking me to stay with you last night. I just thought that you should know, and I'm really sorry if…" Santana stopped her apologies when she noticed Rachel was laughing.

"Santana, I don't care if you're gay. If I remember precisely, I was raised by two gay men."

_Oh, yeah…_

"So it doesn't creep you out?"

Rachel shook her head, smiling. "Not in the slightest, but I'm really glad you trust me enough to tell me."

Santana felt her smile grow wider and wider.

The two had gone through their usually breakfast routine; Rachel getting something began, Santana eating her proteins. If she had been taught anything by her wicked softball coach, it was that eating your proteins was essential.

Santana slowly ate the last few bites if her eggs.

"We have group therapy today."

Santana put her fork down and raised her eyebrow. "_Group _therapy?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes, once every week the patients of the same age groups attend a session of group therapy. It's quite a pain in the rear, if I do say so myself. I have a hard time talking about my condition with my regular therapist let alone a bunch of snobby, immature teenagers." She paused to wipe her mouth with her napkin. "I have come to the conclusion that the leaders here think that coming together with others of the same environment will help us gain a larger support group. They have proven to be most definitely wrong."

Santana pursed her lips. She had a feeling as to what Rachel was referring to.

"You're talking about that Quinn bitch, aren't you?"

Rachel looked down at her plate, "Maybe."

"Are there others? Other people that pick on you? What about that other blonde, the mute one?" Santana asked her. She needed to know how badly Rachel was being tortured. She wanted to help fix it.

But Rachel just shook her head. "No, no one else, just Quinn. She once spread a rumor about me that I can give someone a skin-eating disease by touching them. No one comes near me, except for the nurses."

"What? And they believe that?"

Rachel laughed slightly. "In case you haven't notice, these aren't the smartest of people around here."

Santana sighed, "Well, what time is this thing usually?"

"About…fifteen minutes from now." Rachel said, inspecting her watch.

Santana reached a hand across the table and squeezed Rachel's wrist.

"I'm sure we can fit in a walk around the garden before then." She suggested and Rachel excitedly agreed.

* * *

Six minutes. Six minutes in, and Santana wanted to light herself on fire.

Group therapy had to be the worst idea anyone ever came up with. There were thirty of them pack into a ballroom type room, fifteen patients, fifteen aids, situated all in a circle.

The lady in charge was a peppy, bottle-blonde graduate student named Jenni. With an _I. _Her hair was chin length and pulled back with an itricate lace headband that matched her Ralph Lauren polo dress. She was twenty-eight years old and she smelled like lemon cake.

_This bitch needs to go. _

From the minute she started talking, Santana became instantly annoyed. Rachel had somehow noticed the sudden change in demenor, and gave her a friendly squeeze of a hand. Something that went unnoticed to everyone in the room except one Miss Fabray, who wore an interested smirk at the interaction.

"So friends, to start today's sesh, I want to hear how everyone's weekend was! Did you have fun, did you not have fun? Did you try something new?" Jenni started out with an incredibly annoying and chipper voice. "Britt, how about you? Do you want to say something?"

Brittany, who was braiding her hair, just shook her head, not even attempting what she was asked.

"C'mon, Brittany, sweetie you know you can say anything here. I'm sure all your peers will delitghted to hear what you did this weekend and won't judge you, so please, share something with us." Jenni tried to persuade the girl.

Santana could tell what she was doing. It was obvious Jenni From the Valley knew that Brittany didn't talk and was trying to help her situation.

"Just leave her alone, Jenni. You won't get her to say anything, so don't try." Quinn interjected, not looking up from her nails.

Jenni sighed. "Well Quinn, why don't you share what you did this weekend?"

The girl looked up from her nails, rolling her eyes from being asked to cooperate. "I blew up some stuff, did some crack."

You could tell by the look on her face that Jenni wasn't amused, and Santana couldn't help but laugh. She had to admit, that was a good one.

Quinn laughed at Jenni's look of apparent horror, "Chill okay, I was just kidding. I didn't do anything, just hungout with Britt."

The therapy went on for what felt like forever to Santana. After most of the group giving boring and stupid answers about their weekend, Jenni told them to get together with partners and do trust excercises and stuff like that. It was boring as hell, except for when Rachel and Santana were doing trust-falls. Those, Santana found weirdly fun.

The two girls bust through the door of the ballroom laughing at the end of the session.

"Did you see the look on Jenni's face when that sixteen-year-old told her he hid a dead body in her closet!" Rachel giggled.

"How could I not? She looked like she was about to bolt upstairs to her room right then and there."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she's going up to check right now!"

"Ugh, god, that was the worst hour of my life. We, young lady, are never going back." Santana joked, but their laughing fest didn't last too long when they heard someone else's laugh from behind them.

"Well, look what we have here? Rachel, I'm pretty sure that if you got that schnoz fixed, you wouldn't have buckets of snot spraying from it when you laugh. It's no wonder you've never had a boyfriend. It's really unnattractive."

Santana growled and they turned around in the direction of the voice. "Fabray, to what to we owe this displeasure?"

"I was just walking down the hall to the elevators when an ungodly smell came to me. And what do you know, I thought I smelled freak." Quinn spat at Rachel, smirking.

Santana immeadiately turned to Rachel. "Rachel go up to your room, I'll be there in a minute."

"What? Why?"

"Fabray and I are about to have a smackdown."

Rachel shook her head in protest. "No, Santana it's not worth it, I'm fine."

"Just go up to your room, okay?" She tried to sound reassuring.

The small brunette took one more glance between her aid and the blonde before ultimatley giving in and entering the eleavators.

Santana walked up right to Quinn, her bitch-mode on high.

"Okay, Fabray. What is your problem? What has Rachel ever done to you, and don't say some shit like, 'she exists' or something." Santana snarled, getting right up in Quinn's face.

"I don't need to have a reason. Rachel's a freak and I don't appreaciate being surrounded by freaks." Quinn crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Bull." Santana spat.

Quinn glared over at the Latina. "Look, you obviously care about the Hobbit. I saw you two have your little moment of reasurance in there. I don't see how this involves me."

Now Santana was angry. "It involves you, because you have made Rachel's life here absolute hell. She doesn't need that! She's kind and gentle, and needs help with whats happened to her and she doesn't need _crap _coming from stuck up bitches like _you_. What happened, did you get bullied as a child? Did your daddy not love you and you feel you can justify whatever happened to you by making Rachel suffer?"

Santana didn't even know where that came from, but it was out there and said, and Quinn did not like it.

"Don't pretend like you know me! I've been through hell, too, okay? You don't think there's a reason I'm here? You don't even know the half of it, so don't you dare try to assume that you know me." Quinn yelled, furious.

"Fine, whatever, I don't know you. But just tell me, why Rachel? Why the hell, does Rachel have to be tormented, huh? Just tell me that!" Santana egged on.

"Because she reminds me of someone I hate, okay!" Quinn screamed back.

Santana fell silent, so into what she was saying she hadn't realized how intense it had just gotten. She figured she had pushed Quinn Fabray's buttons so hard that she cracked, because tears were now falling from her face. Quinn looked over and noticed Santana staring at her.

"Well?" Santana asked her expectantly.

"Well, what?"

"Well, are you going to tell me about them? The person who Rachel reminds of and the reason you've been bullying her?" Santana raised her eyebrows. Now she was just curious.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Like I would tell that to you."

"Why not?"

"It's horrible and it's personal."

This time Santana spoke softly. "I am an aid you know, I could help you out."

Quinn glanced at Santana, as if to see if she was truly geniune or not, considering their big blowout just seconds ago. Eventually, she nodded.

"There was this guy I had met one summer when I was a counselor at this summer camp upstate. He worked at a grocery store in town. One day I had the day off so I went into town to buys stuff that I had forgotten to bring with me. You know, razors and tampons and stuff. Anyway, he was the clerk that rang me up. He…he was really nice to me and he started flirting with me and I started flirting back. I really like the idea of a summer fling, so every time I had a day off I would go visit him at that store and we would hang out and make out and stuff."

Quinn paused for a momemt, the continued.

"Then one day, when I went to visit him, he asked me if I wanted to go to this party with him and his friends. I had never really been to a party before so I agreed. I snuck out of my cabin after my campers were asleep and went to the party. Let's just say that was the worst mistake of my life. When I got there he was drunk and gave me a drink. I had never had alcohol before and didn't want to look like a loser, so I drank it. I ended up getting horribly drunk, and when he noticed, he…he took advantage of me."

Santana had not seen that coming. Her mouth was slightly ajar and she really didn't know what to think of what she heard. She didn't think Quinn would open up that much. She barely knew her.

"You don't have to continue. I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard. You were right, that is personal." Santana apologized.

Quinn shook her head however. "No, it's nice talking to someone my age about it. I want to continue if that's okay? If you want to here the rest of it."

Santana just nodded and let Quinn finish her story.

"Well, um, then I realized what had happened but it was too late. We had already done it and there was nothing I could do, so I just hurried back to camp and vowed never to think of it again. Then again, it was kind hard to think about it when I found out I was pregnant."

Santana was _definitley _not expecting that.

"You have a baby?" Santana asked, incredulously.

"Had," Quinn corrected, "I gave her up for adoption."

"Oh, I'm sorry…"

"No, I knew that's what was best for her. I was only a teenager. I never told the dad of course, because I never saw him again. After the party I stopped going into town, afraid I was going to see him. Being pregnant wasn't really that bad, I had my friends and family as a support group. But it was the aftermath that was bad. My whole life I had felt the need to be perfect. I got my eating disorder in an attempt to lose my baby weight."

"Wow, Quinn, you really have gone through hell."

"Whatever its in the past," Quinn looked straight into Santana's eyes, "I'm sorry about how I've treated Rachel. I don't know what it is about her, but she just reminded me so much of him, well before, you know…I promise, I'll leave her alone."

"Thanks, but I don't think you have to leave her alone entirely." Santana replied.

This left Quinn confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sure that if you act as sincere with her as you are with me right now, you guys could be friends. And I think you both could really use a friend."

Quinn smiled a little, and Santana returned it. "Thanks, Santana, I'd like that."

And with that, the Latina left the blonde in the hallway to the elevators to return to Rachel in her room.

* * *

**Okay, I know that ending was sooo cheesy, I'm sorry, I just really wanted Quinn's confession to come out in this chapter and I had trouble figuring it out. Well, I hoped you liked it anyway and PLEASE REVIEW. Thanks!**

**-katiee **


	6. Chapter 6

**YAY! First update of 2013! I hope you guys are enjoying the New Year and I hope you like this chapter, and as always, PLEASE review! **

**ALSO! I DO NOT OWN THE SONG RECESSIONAL BY VIENNA TENG, ALL CREDIT GOES TO THOSE THEY DESERVE. Thank you**

**ALSO ALSO! I have a poll on my profile regarding Brittany and Quinn so check it out!**

* * *

Santana already felt exhausted from the sudden turn of events by the time she reached Rachel's room.

She had misread Quinn. She had pegged her for just another shallow, attention-hungry bitch that every high school has, but she was seriously wrong. Not only had Quinn been basically raped, she also had a kid and an eating disorder by the age of seventeen. If that didn't scream screwed up TV sitcom character, Santana didn't know what did.

She turned the handle to Rachel's bedroom, being hounded immediately by the tiny brunette herself.

"Santana, are you crazy? I know Quinn's kind of a bitch, pardon my French, and has bullied me since she got here, but that doesn't mean I condone violence as a feasible option for fixing someone's prob—"

"Rach, chillax," Santana interrupted, laughing, "I took care of it. You won't have to deal with her being horrible anymore."

Rachel stopped her yelling. "What?"

Santana nodded at her, smiling, "Yep. She told me why she was picking on you, well after I made her cry…"

"You made her cry?"

Santana laughed again, satisfied, "Yeah. Anyway, I made her see that what she was doing to you wasn't fair and she said she would back off. But, to be honest Rach, I think you two could be friends."

Rachel looked at Santana with a face of shock, "What? I will do no such thing. She once stole my underwear from the laundry floor and soaked it in bacon grease from the kitchen! I'm Jewish, Santana! It took me weeks to get the smell out. I may not remember everything she does to me anymore, but that one I definitely remember."

Santana sighed. That really was low, but she really thought Quinn and Rachel would be good for each other. She also never helped people, so it better work.

"I get that, Rachel, but she's promised to make it up to you. You don't have to be friends with her, just keep an open mind, okay?"

"Okay, I will. But only for you. Are you going to be friends with her?" Rachel asked, raising her eyebrow slightly.

Santana slowly nodded. "I think I might…if we don't kill each other first."

Rachel frowned, but she still had a somewhat playful look. "That's too bad…I liked the idea of keeping you all to myself."

Santana froze.

_Did I…did I imagine that?_

Then Rachel sighed and walked towards her bed, settling herself down, her carousel horse in her arms. "I'm super tired. I think I'm going to take a nap."

Santana nodded and responded subconsciously. "Okay, go ahead."

The Latina finally stalked over to the window as soon as she regained control over her legs. She sat on the windowsill overlooking the parking lot. The small girl had quickly fallen asleep; her shoulders calmly bobbing up and down from even breaths. Santana looked over to her. There was absolutely no way at this point that she could push away any sort of feelings she had for Rachel.

Why? Why out of all people did she have to fall for her community service project.

_Don't call her that._

Anyway, for the first time since _her _Santana has felt genuinely happy and she didn't want to stop feeling happy. It was a really weird feeling, but she liked it.

Then something dawned on Santana. What if Rachel had feelings for her too? Did Rachel seem like she was gay?

_She kissed your cheek. _

Was that kiss something Rachel did out of gratitude, or was it supposed to mean something else? And that thing Rachel had just said about keeping Santana to herself? Was she _flirting?_

Santana was confusing herself. Could Rachel seriously like her back? Suddenly, every single thing that had happened between the two seemed to scream that Rachel had an attraction to Santana. The gentleness in her voice, always touching her, the fact that the only thing that would calm her down after her nightmare was when Santana was near.

_Maybe it means nothing. Maybe, I'm making it up in my head. _

Abruptly, Santana jumped down from the windowsill, still aware not to wake up Rachel. She tiptoed to the drawer next to the bed and pulled out the notebook she had used that first day she hung out with Rachel. She grabbed it along with the pen next to it and repositioned herself on the windowsill. Santana opened up the first page and read the song she had started that day. She instantly crossed it out and started with a fresh page. A melody found its way into Santana's head and she began to write. Words were coming to her, words that made sense and words that felt right.

"_It's so beautiful here, she says, this moment now, this moment… now. And I never thought I would find her here. Flannel and satin, my four walls transformed." _

She didn't know where that came from, but she felt like it was true. Santana was the flannel. She was rugged and tough, where Rachel was the satin, beautiful and delicate.

"_But she's looking at me, straight to center, no room at all for any other thought. And I know I don't want this…no, I swear I don't want this. There's a reason not to want this, but I forgot." _

It was literally like Santana had forgotten all of her previous reservations about not letting herself get attached, but she knew they were still there. There was a reason she wasn't supposed to let this happen…

"_In the terminal she sleeps on my shoulder; hair fallen forward, mouth all askew. Fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead. Passengers missing, we're looking for you." _

Santana wrote about them on the bus back from Aurora. She remembered how beautiful and peaceful she looked and how right it felt to have her resting on her shoulder. Like her head was made to fit perfectly.

"_And she dreams through the noise, her weight against me. Face pressed into the corduroy grooves…" _

She hears Rachel stir and she tenses. Santana watches her carefully, and after a few moments pass and the girl doesn't move again, Santana continues to sing, quieter, eyes still completely locked on her.

"_Maybe it means nothing. Maybe it means nothing. Maybe it means nothing, but I'm afraid to move…"_

Santana took a shaky breath, combing back the bangs of her hair wither fingers, the lump in her throat telling her to look away.

Santana got her answer, she decided.

"_And the words, they're everything and nothing. I want to search for her in the offhand remarks." _

The Latina turned her body on the window to face the sleeping girl. Rachel's back was to her, but that didn't stop her from singing to her any way.

Santana wasn't a crier. But this time she let her chin tremble, only a little.

"_Who are you taking coffee, no sugar? Who are you, echoing streets signs? Who are you, the stranger in the shell of a lover? Dark curtains drawn by the passage of time. Oh, words like rain, how sweet the sound…Well anyway, she says…I'll see you around."_

Santana turned back towards the view out the window, humming the melody weakly, the note getting louder and stronger as she felt the feelings getting stronger and stronger, filling up her throat.

She wasn't going to cry. She couldn't cry. She wouldn't cry.

_For Christ's sake, Santana, get a grip. See, this is what you do. You act all tough and bad, but as soon as you meet someone sweet and innocent, who makes you want to be a better person, you fall too hard and too quickly. You can't keep doing this to yourself anymore. It's not fair to you and it's not fair to her. _

Her vision became blurred to the point where she couldn't see anymore.

"That sounded beautiful."

Santana's eyes widened to the size of golf balls and she quickly whizzed herself around. She saw Rachel still lying on her bed, but she was now facing Santana and her eyes were now open.

"How much of that did you hear?" Santana asked her, panicked.

"Not much, just the little humming thing. Your voice is so unique. I could listen to it all day," Rachel replied, yawning. "What song was that? I don't recognize the melody."

Santana looked down and sniffed "It's just something I'm working on."

Rachel frowned and Santana knew the girl could see the redness in her eyes.

"What's wrong? Have you been crying?" Rachel sounded so concerned and sincere.

_She's just being nice. It's not like she genuinely cares if you're upset or not. _

"Um, I'm just a little homesick. I'll be fine." She lied.

Rachel sat up and crossed her legs underneath her. "I'm sorry. I know how hard it must be to just pack up and leave all your friends and family behind. I wish I could feel homesick, but I honestly couldn't tell you what home is anymore…"

Despite the voice in her head telling her not to, Santana stood up and sat next to Rachel on the bed.

"Then how about this," Santana cautiously put her hand on top of Rachel's. "How about we be each other's home?" Santana gave her the best smile she could.

And Rachel smiled right back.

* * *

The walk down to dinner was slightly awkward. Rachel didn't seem to mind the silence, but it just made Santana even more uncomfortable. She needed distractions. She needed Rachel to start a random conversation so she could stop fixating on her thoughts.

As if she read her mind, Rachel spoke up. "When's your birthday?"

Santana was slightly freaked at how ironically random the question was. "What? Why?"

Rachel just shrugged, keeping her vision in front of her. "I just want to know more about you. I feel like we've gotten really close, but I hardly know anything about you really."

It was true. Santana hadn't really said much about herself, nor had she asked Rachel about herself for obvious reasons. She guessed now would be a good time to start.

Santana smiled over at her, "My birthday is January twelfth."

Rachel beamed, "You're older than me. Mine is December eighteenth."

"I know," Santana replied impulsively.

"What? How do you know that?" Rachel was confused.

Santana's eyes widened when she realized her mistake. Rachel probably didn't know she had read her file. Santana didn't want Rachel to be freaked out by her knowing all these personal things about her.

"I-I mean I assumed. You seem younger than I am." Santana quickly recovered.

"Oh." Rachel nodded.

The two proceeded to walk into the commissary and sit down at their usual table. It was pretty crowded for the hour and quite loud with all the people in the room eating their dinners.

"Aren't you supposed to be in school or something? I mean, I know why _I'm _not in school, but you'd think that a judge wouldn't rule a community service program for someone not in their hometown during the school year, wouldn't they?" Rachel asks.

"I'm in an independent study program this year." Santana replied plainly.

"What's that?"

"It's where I don't go to school and I have to learn things myself from home. It's basically homeschooling."

"Why are you doing it?"

Santana just shrugs. Being on independent study makes her feel stupid and she'd rather not talk about it, but she can't say no to Rachel. "I got into a lot of trouble this year…in and out of school and my parents thought it would be best to give me a break for a year. But I'm going back for my senior year. There's no way I'm skipping out on a chance at college."

Rachel's eyes brighten up. "What college do you want to go to?"

The Latina bites her lip and shrugs once more, this time smirking as well. "Who knows? Anywhere out of Ohio. Maybe I'll go east, maybe west. It's all up in the air right now."

Rachel looks at her with complete awe and longing, though most likely not the kind Santana hoped. "Please take me with you," She pleaded.

Santana laughed and grinned over at her. "Of course."

Just then the duo was joined with another, two blondes sitting down next to them on each side.

"What are the lovebirds chatting about?" Quinn piped from next to Santana. The girl almost choked on her own saliva, heat racing to her cheeks. She gives Quinn a, _what the hell_ look, causing the blonde to laugh.

"Lovebirds?" Rachel questions, her demeanor obviously more uncomfortable upon the arrival of Quinn and Brittany.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just kidding around." Quinn explains, giving Rachel her winning smile. "I actually wanted to apologize for the way I've been acting. I'm sure Santana has told you what happened after group, but I assure you, I want to try being friends. I hope you'll consider it."

Rachel looked back and forth between Santana and Quinn, wondering if this was all too good to be true. Did Quinn Fabray just apologize to her? Even more, did she hear some _sincerity _in the blonde's voice?

"I think I'd be willing to put our differences aside Quinn if you are so willing to do so." Rachel replied.

"Britt, wants to be friends, too. She doesn't talk, but she's a really good friend and a really good listener." Quinn adds, nodding toward the other blonde sitting next to Rachel. Brittany boasted, showing Rachel all her teeth.

"That sounds…really nice." Rachel finally said. She was struggling to take in all of this. For almost two years, she had Quinn torture her for this and that with Brittany as a bystander and one conversation with her new, exotic, mysteriously comforting aid, she now wants to be friends as if nothing in the last few years had happened? Rachel had a feeling Quinn might have ulterior motives, but of what? To make fun of her some more? To burn more of her things? It didn't make sense, really.

But Rachel was a forgiving person, or at least she tries to be with all that's happened to her in her life. So, she feels as if she should give Quinn (and Brittany) a chance. Maybe, just maybe, things will work out.

"Rach, and I were just discussing stuff about ourselves, trying to get to know each other more. Want in?" Santana asked the two blondes before turning to look at Rachel, as if she were mentally asking her if that was okay.

"Yes, it would be lovely if you joined our conversation." Rachel replied after a moment of debating with herself.

Quinn beamed at her, really, truly happy to be given a chance by the small brunette.

* * *

"No way! There is no way Katy Perry is overrated, she's a visionary! Who do you think you are?" Quinn laughed as she argued, in a heated argument over musical icons with none other than Rachel Berry.

"Are you kidding? All her songs are just teeny-bopper songs with catchy beats to mask the fact that the vocals are only subpar and the lyrics lack emotional depth." Rachel countered, matter-of-factly.

"Katy Perry is amazing! Her outfits always look like cotton candy!" Brittany wrote down on her pad of paper.

Santana sat back in her chair, her arms across her chest, smiling contently to the brunette sitting across from her. She couldn't help how much she liked how passionate Rachel was, even if it was only a conversation about music, which proved to be a very interesting conversation. Rachel ate, breathed, slept, and sang music. It was dripping from her pores, and Santana could tell that more than likely, singing was the one thing that made Rachel happy while she was here. And Santana couldn't get enough of it.

"Barbra, Patti, Liza, Bernadette, on the other hand, all have the same thing in common. They're true artists." Rachel said proudly.

Quinn just scoffed, which made Brittany laugh. "Santana, please, help me out here. Would you tell your patient that while, yes, all those people are classic, talented performers, they're old has-beens. Katy Perry is new, she's fresh, and she's young and her music relates to teenagers like us."

Santana put her hands up. "Sorry Fabray, but I could care less about either of those genres. I'm more of an alternative gal myself…" she glanced over at Rachel, smiling knowingly, who was also smiling back.

"However I do think there is a star out there who shines brighter than anyone else in my opinion." Rachel adds.

"Who?" Brittany writes.

Rachel smiles smugly, "Me."

Quinn raised an eyebrow (which if Santana wasn't totally into Rachel, would deem ridiculously intimidating and sexy), "Oh, really now?"

"Mmhmm. I'll have you know that I'm quite talented."

"It's true. I've heard her with my own ears." Santana nodded.

"So you're a singer then?" Quinn asks.

"It's what I do when I have time to, but eventually I would like to get out of here and become the next Barbra Streisand, like anyone could do that though." Rachel placed her chin on her hand, which was propped up onto the table by her elbow.

"Ugh, don't we all?" Quinn groaned.

"Want to become the next Streisand?" Santana questioned.

"No, get out of here. We all have something that ties us here for who knows how long, well, except for Santana, which…I'm confused about. Why _are_ you here?" Quinn asked, turning her torso towards the girl sitting next to her.

"I got into trouble for being a klepto, so to skip out on jail, I have six weeks of community service here as an aid. So, even if I did want to leave, I couldn't." Santana replied, thinking of Rachel.

_I don't want to leave. Not as long as she's here._

"Wow, so I guess we're all stuck to dream of greater pastures." Quinn said, Brittany nodding along with her.

"Yeah, and speaking of dreaming, it's almost curfew, so I think we better go back now." Santana grumbled.

The four girls stood up at once, saying their goodnights.

"I'm really glad we did this," Rachel speaks up as she and Santana walk to the opposite set of elevators, "and thank you for telling to me to give them a chance." She's looking up at Santana, her big brown eyes glistening, and Santana swears she can see some adoration in them, but then again, she's probably imaging it.

"Good, Rach. I'm glad you're happy." Santana grins warmly down at Rachel and the brunette subtly takes Santana's hand, making her heart race all the way to her room.

* * *

**Yay! I hope you liked it guys, I know it's not the best, but it'll get there! Sorry for the long update, I've been crazy busy you would not believe! Anyway, thanks for reading and Please Review!**

**P.S.! I have a poll on my profile regarding Quinn and Brittany on my profile if you guys want to check it out! Thanks and see y'all later!**

**-Katie **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hola ladies and gents! Sorry for not updating!**

**PLEASE READ OR YOU MIGHT GET CONFUSED: Just as a clarifier, this is mostly a background chapter for you guys to sort of get to know Rachel and her past a little better. Most of this she still doesn't remember. Thanks and please review and enjoy!**

* * *

Once upon a time, there were two men who were deeply, madly in love.

They met on a hot summer's day at the community pool in sunny Lima, Ohio. They were instantly drawn, friends at first of course for they were only twelve, but sure enough they grew to love one another.

Like all relationships the men went through obstacles together. They were poked and prodded at by society, blaming "the homosexuals" for all their problems. The men longed for the day where they could teach a child of their own the evils of ignorance and bigotry. They secretly wed next to a waterfall in Kauai and soon hoped to fulfill their dream of becoming a family.

Only this dream was harder to have come true.

No one wanted to give their babies to sinners. They were told to go to hell, to stop trying, and how dare they consider bringing up a child in such an environment. But then, when the men had lost all hope in the idea of a family, they met their savior in the form of Shelby Corcoran.

They had found her by chance in a doctor's office, where Shelby had overheard an example of the insults above from one of the nurses. They seemed like nice men, she thought, and she desperately needed money to get herself to New York. So, she helped them, and the men had never felt so lucky. And nine months later, Shelby gave birth to a beautiful baby girl with chocolate eyes and a nose quite similar to her own. The men were over the moon.

She was named after the two women that would calm her persistent cries: Rachel Green and Barbra Streisand. So, after a week, the men too Rachel Barbra Berry home and their lifelong dream of having a child was a reality. For a while, they were just a normal clad of three; just Dad, Daddy, and Rachie. It wasn't until a four-month-old Rachel hummed in perfect sync to "I'm the Greatest Star" from Funny Girl that the men knew who their daughter would become.

Rachel Barbra Berry would become a star.

The two men jumped right into action. They enrolled Rachel in every dance, acting, and vocal lessons available. She started piano and guitar lessons beginning when she was six months. If their daughter was to be a performer, then by god she would be the best.

Every night before bed and each day when she woke up from her nap, Rachel would be introduced to a new Broadway, television, or pop icon. She would get to know the rhythms and styles and techniques of musical theater. When she was three she began children's theater and other community theater productions, each of which she was the center of everyone's attention. Everyone loved little Rachel and Rachel loved everyone.

Even with all the hectic schedules for Rachel, the men still found time to incorporate their Jewish faith in their daughter's life, taking her to the synagogue as much as possible and having her perform in the Lima Jewish Community Center.

All in all, Rachel Berry grew up to be the star her fathers' knew she would be.

At six, Rachel had won first place in an all-round talent competition in Akron for her astounding rendition of Celine Dion's "Calling You". It had been a state wide competition and their little girl had won it all.

She's a prodigy, their friends would say. She'll soon see her name in those pretty little lights; it's an inevitability.

The men knew it too, they could feel it. It wasn't only because she was their daughter, but there was something magnificent that happened whenever Rachel performed. They couldn't put it into words, however, they couldn't deny how much she moved them and gave them a certain hope they had not even known what for yet.

Rachel Barbra Berry was special. She was special and she was theirs.

* * *

Early life had always come easy to Rachel. She said the word, and her parents would come running. But they taught her well, that privileges have their prices too. If she were to become famous one day (a certainty believed by most) then she couldn't be selfish, greediness was bad, and she was to treat her others with respect and gracefulness. She would be poised at all times. And poised she was.

She had an outstanding vocabulary, years beyond her peers, and she loved to talk. Rachel had been the top of all her classes through preschool and elementary school, academically and of course talent wise.

She had only one friend however, a boy named Finn who would play in the sandboxes with her, but he eventually moved somewhere upstate.

It was after preschool, where things outside of her privileged home life took a turn for the worse for Rachel.

"Hello friends, I'm Rachel Barbra Berry! It is a pleasure to meet you!" A five-year-old Rachel boasted to a fellow kindergarten classmate on her first day at Lima Elementary.

The boy proceeded to push Rachel into the grass, subjecting her to get mud in her braids.

"Hey! That was not very nice of you-" Rachel cried from her position on the ground.

The boy just scrunched his nose in reply, "You talk funny. You're weird."

The bullying didn't stop with the boy from the first day. For the next three years, Rachel's classmates tortured her for things from her big nose to her dads and to her talent. Boys and girls would come into class with newspaper cutouts from articles about her various performances. It was weird, they said. It was stupid, they said. She was stupid, they said.

A seven-year-old Rachel sat in the living room, on the couch in between her two fathers, crying her little chocolate eyes out.

"Why are they so mean? Why do they keep saying mean things to me? I didn't do anything to them!" Rachel cried.

Her fathers were outraged. How dare the school let this happen to their precious girl! How dare they let her be taunted by the other children while her teachers sat idle by!

But they had no power. Sure their daughter was the most talented Lima had ever seen, but that didn't hide the fact that they were still the homosexuals of the town. Conservative Lima may love Rachel, but her fathers, not so much.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, now look at me," her daddy said sternly and Rachel obeyed, "the reason those kids are mean to you is because there are just horribly raised, jealous children. They can't stand that they can't do what you do. They hate that they aren't in the newspapers. But, honey I'm going to have to be honest with you because it is for your own good." Rachel looked up at her daddy, her father looking up at his husband as well.

"I know it may hurt, sweetie, believe me, having mean things said to you hurts. Your father and I know that very well. However, you are going to just have to keep your pretty little head high and keep on going. They don't matter to you! If they feel the need to belittle you out of pettiness, they don't deserve to have the satisfaction of seeing you upset."

Rachel hiccupped, "But, Daddy, how am I supposed to do that? I see them all the time!"

"This is something you're going to need to learn how to do, Star. When you become famous, there are going to be people who _aren't _your fans and may not like your voice. They might be mean. And you will need to know how to turn the other cheek. You can't please everyone." He paused to smile down at his daughter, his husband smiling proudly beside him. "So, when you go to school tomorrow, I want you to keep your head high and turn the other cheek. Can you do that for me, Star?"

Rachel grinned for the first time that night, feeling blessed to have the two men in her life.

"Yes, Dad, Daddy. I can turn the other cheek."

And that's what Rachel did. That next day when her previous tormentors had started up their usual antics, she turned the other cheek.

"Hey! I just told you your singing sounded likes some dead frogs! Why are you not crying, Pig Nose?" Ginger, the ringleader shouted at her.

Rachel just smiled her award-winning (literal) smile, "I am no longer crying, because Ginger, you and your insults don't matter to me anymore."

Ginger and her posse never stopped trying to bring Rachel down from her spotlight, but that in itself was an extremely difficult task. There was nothing Rachel Barbra Berry loved more than a good ole spotlight.

But the two men's life lessons for their daughter didn't end there though. There was the time when Rachel was eight and had found a picture of her fathers' wedding.

"Dad, Daddy?"

"Yes, Star?"

"When was this?" Rachel held up the picture for her parents to see.

They grinned lovingly at one another in remembrance. "That was our wedding, honey. It was before you were born."

Rachel stared quizzically at the photo again, "But why are you next to a waterfall? Why didn't you get married in the synagogue? That's where all the couples from the JCC get married. Why not you?"

The men knew this conversation might come one day. "Well, sweetie, your Daddy and I didn't get married in the synagogue because we had to get married secretly."

"Secretly?"

"Yes, you see, gay marriage is technically illegal." Her father explained.

That got Rachel. "Why?"

Honestly, the men didn't know why all that much either.

"It's illegal because, a lot of people don't think gay marriage is right. They say it's sinful, that it is unnatural and wrong."

"But you guys aren't unnatural. You aren't wrong! That's not fair, you and Daddy are people too!" Rachel complained, all worked up.

"We know it's not fair, baby, but that's the way it is. Some people are just hateful and we just have to deal with it."

Rachel smiled slightly, "And turn the other cheek?"

Her fathers laughed, "Yes, Star, and turn the other cheek."

Rachel beamed but her father leaned in closer.

"But remember Star, remember this for when you're older," he told her.

Rachel nodded at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue what he was trying to tell her.

"No matter what, no matter who you are, love is love. It's as simple as that."

Rachel vowed to herself that she would remember just that, what her father had told her. She must always remember that love is love.

It had been a particularly warm day that day and Rachel was beginning to feel antsy. The men decided to take their nine-year-old to the park so she could roam free, while they could sit and relax in the sun.

The men sat on a park bench eating some frozen yogurt, watching Rachel play on the jungle gym.

"I can't wait to tell our daughter about our trip to New York!" He said excitedly to his husband.

"I know, she's going to be thrilled. I think we've saved almost enough money to see a different Broadway show each night! This is going to be such an – wait." He stopped and looked around.

His partner had been rendered confused, "Wait what?"

"Where's Rachel?" He searched his eyes through the jungle gym, but he couldn't find his precious angel anywhere.

"Oh my god!"

They both shot up from the bench, leaving their yogurts in their frantic search for their daughter.

"Rachel!"

"Rachel!"

"Rache – oh, my god, Leroy!"

He saw from across the distance his little girl going over the side of a bridge. He could barely breathe.

"RACHEL!"

The men raced as fast as they could, in hopes of catching their daughter. But it was no use. They heard her screams as she went over, getting there in time to see her hit the water.

"My baby! Hiram, do something!" He pleaded.

He reached for his pockets, but felt nothing. He had left his phone on the bench with the yogurt. There was no time to go back for it.

"Help! Help us, please! Somebody call an ambulance!"

Someone did call an ambulance and they soon heard sirens making their way closer and closer. It didn't feel fast enough to the men. Their daughter could be dead for all they knew.

The paramedics fished Rachel out of the water, strapping her into the back of the ambulance.

They had been told that she was unconscious and they had to meet them back at the hospital. That had been the longest drive of their lives, but they made it and demanded to see Rachel the minute they got there.

A half hour later, the doctor finally came back to them, but they could tell by the way she walked it, it could have been good.

"I'm afraid Mr. and Mr. Berry that Rachel has lost her memory. Whether or not it is a temporary thing, or if it might last, we aren't entirely sure, though the tests seem to be leaning towards the latter. I'm very sorry." The doctor left them then, but it was if their worlds had already came tumbling down.

"Hiram, what are we going to do?" Leroy asked his partner after visiting their recently-awoken daughter. "She doesn't remember us. She doesn't remember anything!"

"I don't know, Lee. I don't think I could handle starting all over from scratch. What about New York? What about her voice?"

"She still has all that she just doesn't remember she does…I think we're going to need help with this."

The idea of admitting her into the Lima County Mental Institution was Hiram's mother's idea. That way they could help their daughter as much as they could with the additional help of the trainers, aids, and therapists.

"Rachel, sweetie, we'll be back soon. We are going to visit your grandmother for a couple of days but then we'll be back to visit, we promise." The two men told their daughter and they drove off away from the institute.

The men never came back.

Rachel grew to accept the fact. She figured her fathers didn't want a daughter who couldn't remember anything.

Her aids brought her back on her feet. They reintroduced her to theater and singing and Barbra. She dreamed of the stage again, she dreamed of New York again.

It was if nothing changed other than that she was without parents and stuck in the hell hole that was Lima County Mental Institution.

* * *

Two days after they dropped off their precious daughter, the two men boarded a plane to visit her grandmother. A plane that would never land. A plane that would disappear with the Berry men along with it.

* * *

**So! Hope you liked it and please check out my poll on my profile and please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone! I hope everyone had a good spring break (I know I'm a little late) and I know this has been a long wait, but things for me, and I'm sure a lot of you, have been crazy hectic! I hope this post lasts you over for a while because I have lots of AP studying to do, but rest assured, come summer the updates will be in full swing.**

**On that note, enjoy and please review!**

* * *

It was approximately 7:45 in the morning and Santana was happy to say that she was awake and not in a bad mood.

Progress, she called it.

She had been at the Institute for two weeks now and the raven-haired beauty could hardly remember a life before the Institute; life before Rachel more specifically.

Things had begun taking a weird turn. For the first time in her life, Santana's life had been taken over by laughter and friends and fun - the legal kind of fun. And with girls for that matter! Never before had she been around so much estrogen. But in all honesties, Santana didn't mind in the least. Quinn and Brittany were great; they all got along pretty well. If only she wasn't taking so long make a damn move on with Rachel.

Speaking of Rachel, Quinn, Brittany, and Santana were currently gliding through the hallways of the second floor, crazy patients and aids parting like the Red Sea as they passed them. It was a powerful feeling that Santana had never experienced before, though by the look on her face, it seemed as if this was an everyday phenomenon for the lustrous Quinn Fabray. Between the pursed smirk and the delicate hands on delicate hips, Santana could tell that Quinn was loving every second of the attention. Santana could help but roll her eyes and laugh.

Two more corners and the trio would reach their destination. It was Wednesday once more, another day off for the aid, and Santana had planned another adventure. This time however, her plan had been spoiled to the two blondes by accident, who then proceeded to begin begging for permission to come along. At first, Santana had been hesitant to say yes, as it was sort of just her and Rachel's special thing, but she didn't want her new friends to be deprived of the chance at escape.

Three swift knocks on the door and a particularly chipper Rachel sprung out from the other side.

"Good morning, lovely ladies!" Rachel beamed, and then looked around herself, making sure the coast was clear before continuing in a whisper, "Are we ready for departure?"

"We sure are." Quinn piped, while Brittany nodded eagerly behind her, her blonde ringlets bouncing in response.

"Then let's get going." The four girls proceeded down the hallway toward the elevators, trying to act normal. Santana jumped a bit when she felt something soft grasp her hand, only to realize it had been Rachel, who stared intently gazed up at her. Santana took a hard gulp while receiving an amused eyebrow raise from Quinn. Santana mentally flipped her off, however obvious to Quinn, who laughed in return.

The girls filed into the tiny elevator, quickly pressing the close button so they could ride alone.

"You told them what to do, right Rach?"

"Yes, Berry gave us extensive instructions to wait for you out in the garden by the gate."

Santana squeezed Rachel's hand gently just before the elevator doors opened to reveal the first floor hallway.

"Okay, guys, see you in a few." Santana waved to them as she stalked in the opposite direction. Santana put on her "calm, cool, and collected" face from her days of crime on as she walked past the front desk, waved goodbye to Olivia, and went out the front door.

Like the last time she broke Rachel out, Santana got that slight rush upon leaving towards the gate.

That glorious feeling of rule-breaking.

Ever since she was little, Santana was always going around, giving her mother constant headaches as she chased her around. What could she say? She lived for the rush. Only this time felt so much more amazing because instead of breaking the rules for her own gain, she was helping her friends out, which was definitely worth the rush.

"Guys are you here?" She half whisper, half shouted as she approached the vine covered gate.

"Yeah, we're here!" She could hear Rachel quip from the other side.

Santana took out her employee keys and opened up the gate to have two blondes and a tiny brunette swiftly run out to join her on the sidewalk.

Santana and Rachel had begun to walk towards the buses before they noticed Brittany running around the side of the street with Quinn on her back, screaming.

"Woo-hoo! Yeah! We are free, Britt!"

Rachel and Santana couldn't help but laugh at their friends.

Still laughing, Santana tried to suppress their noise. "Shh, guys. You don't want us to get caught and have your freedom taken away now, do you?"

"Chill out Lopez, you sound like Berry." Quinn giggled from Brittany's back.

"Hey!" Rachel laughed, feigning offense.

"Whatever, let's go ladies. To the buses!" Brittany ran them over to the bus stop, leaving Rachel and Santana to walk behind them.

"Wow, I mean I always knew must not be all bad inside when she was bullying me, but I never thought she could be so _silly._" Rachel commented sincerely.

"I get what you mean. She looks all intimidating, but she's just a goofball really. I think Brittany brings that out of her." Santana agreed.

"Well, then I'm grateful for Brittany," Rachel looked up intently at Santana, suddenly serious. "I really am happy that we are all starting to get along. For once, I am truly starting to enjoy myself. No more worrying about what happened in the past or what I can't remember. No more resentment for being stuck here. I never been more relaxed and I feel like I can finally let my hair down and enjoy life. I have friends now," Rachel grabbed Santana's sweaty palm, "And I have you."

_Mother of God, Rachel…why are you doing this to me?_

Santana tried to come up with a poetic and romantic response to that, but all that came out was, "That's great. I'm glad."

They had reached the bus where Quinn and Brittany were already seated inside and Rachel climbed up the steps to join them.

"What the hell was that, Lopez?" Santana muttered to herself as she made her way through the small walkway and sat next to Rachel in front of their friends.

This was going to be a tough trip.

* * *

After riding on the bus for five minutes, Santana felt her hair being pulled from behind.

"Santana, Britt wants to know where we're going." Quinn told her.

"I was going to ask you guys, actually. You said you were from here. Know any place worthy of going?"

Quinn's pretty face contorted into a puzzled one and she looked to Brittany for help. Brittany thought for a second as well before her eyes lit up with an idea. She lifted her hands in the air, putting her right hand flat, as if it were holding something, and her left hand vertical, as if it was supporting that thing. She then brought her arm backward and thrust in forward with enthusiasm.

"Oh, good idea, Britt. Brittany says we should go bowling." Quinn explained to them, noting the confused looks on Santana and Rachel's faces. They didn't quite understand Brittany-speak yet.

"I'm down with that, how about you, Rach?" Personally, Santana never really cared for bowling (wearing used shoes that are probably swimming with fungus? No, thanks) but she wanted their adventure to be about the other three having a good time. They could come go like she could at the Institute.

"Bowling?" Rachel questioned, her nose scrunched.

"You don't like bowling?" Quinn asked.

"No, I just don't think I've ever done it before." Rachel answered honestly.

"Well I'm sure San would _love _to teach you." Quinn smirked, not-so-subtlety winking towards Santana.

What was Quinn doing? What was her angle? It was started to freak Santana out.

"Okay, I guess that'll be nice."

"Then it's settled," Quinn voiced, "we are already only three blocks away."

Three blocks away, the girls descended from the bus and stalked together into the entrance of Lima Bowl Emporium. They got their shoes and secure their table.

Rachel walked up to the balls and attempted to pick up a pink one, only to have her arm yanked down, having not anticipated the weight of the object.

Santana couldn't help but giggle and smile at her. She looked ridiculously cute trying to muster enough strength with her petite body to support her pink bowling ball.

"San, help!" Rachel huffed in her direction.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Santana went over to her patient, still amused. She then proceeded to take the pink bowling ball away from Rachel, placing it down with the others.

"Hey, that was mine." Rachel pouted.

"First of all, that ball was way too heavy for you. You would have barely gotten it down the lane." Santana pointed down the balls. "See how they have numbers? That tells you how much they weigh. Since you're short, you should use the ones with the lower numbers." Santana picked an orange ball with the letter four on it and handed to Rachel.

Rachel made a face at the ball. "But the other color was much prettier…"

"I don't care. Now, what do you think you do?" Santana asked her, gesturing toward their lane.

"Do I hit those pin things?"

"Yes, if you hit some of them it's called a spare, but if you hit all of them it's called a strike. You want strikes. They're worth more points." Santana explained to her, then took her by the shoulders and placed her in front of the lane.

"I guess that sounds easy enough." Rachel held up her ball by her chest for a few seconds, and then hesitantly threw her ball down the lane. The orange ball hit the lane with a loud thud and started rolling more and more to the left until it eventually fell into the gutter. Rachel turned around with her arms across her chest, "This is hard." She concluded.

Santana laughed, "It's okay, Rach. It takes practice."

The Latina took a sideward glance at Quinn and Brittany, who were laughing and throwing their own balls down the lane, wrapped up in their own attention. Santana was kind of glad, though. Sure, she liked having them around, but she really liked having this moment with Rachel alone, just the two of them.

"Come help me, San, please?" Rachel pleaded.

"Okay, you know I can't say no to the pout," Santana came up behind her, "Here, stand here like this." She moved Rachel's hips with her hands, angling them just right. "Now, you have to bend real low, while you lift your arm back, you get...um, more momentum that way." Santana talked right near her ear and guided Rachel's arm backwards. "Then you aim at that very point of the pins and…" She guided Rachel and she threw the ball forward, this time flying straight down the middle and hitting downs all the pins.

Rachel wormed her way out of Santana's arms to jump up and down with excitement. "Oh, my god Santana I did it! That was amazing."

Santana shrugged sheepishly (_sheepishly?_) at her patient. "It was nothing."

"Oh, I beg to differ, San, according to what I just saw, you are quite the helper." Quinn sauntered her way over here, wearing that same smirk from earlier. "Do you want anything Rachel? I was just going to grab Santana to get us some food."

Rachel shook her head. "I think I'm okay. You go ahead; I'll just keep practicing with Britt."

"Sounds like a plan." Quinn replied and took Santana's arm with her towards the snack line.

Once they were out of the line with their food gently placed on their table, Santana finally decided to speak, not being able to hold it any longer.

"Okay, Fabray, I don't know what you think you're up to but it's time to stop." Santana said, semi-threatening.

"I don't know what you're talking about, San." Quinn replied innocently.

"Cut the crap, I can see right through you. You may have Rachel fooled and Brittany wrapped around your finger, but you can't fool me."

"I'm just giving you two the obvious push you need is all. You guys will never get anywhere at the rate you're going." Quinn laughed.

Santana was frozen from a mix between fear and bewilderment. "Wh-? How did you know-"

"How did I know that you're gay?" Quinn smiled at her, but in the sinister, conniving way Santana thought she would. It was more like an admiring smile, proud almost. "It was that hard to figure out. I see the way you look at her when she is and when she is not looking back at you. I may be blonde, but I am nowhere near dumb. Admit it, Santana. You want the Berry."

Santana shuddered and covered her ears. "Oh, my god, Q! Don't say that!" She looked around them, seeing if anyone, specifically Rachel was listening to her conversation. Luckily the brunette was still over by the lanes racing with Brittany.

"See, right there. You're doing it right now. You cannot look at her and not get all googly-eyed. You simply, can't. I am a witness to this and you must confess. You like Rachel Berry." Quinn interrupted her apparently obvious gazing.

"I do not, Quinn." Santana tried to scoff it off, but she could feel the heat on her cheeks.

"You so do."

"I don't."

"You do."

"We are five year olds."

"Maybe so, but you still like Rachel."

"I can't believe we are having this conversation."

"I can't believe you admit you like Rachel."

"I'm walking away now." Santana stood up from the table but was stopped when Rachel and Brittany approached them.

"Hey San, Q. How's the pizza?" Rachel asked.

"It's great, Rach." Santana mumbled but was once again interrupted by Quinn.

"I'm bored. Let's do something else."

"What? But this is fun!" Rachel complained.

"No, no, no. This simply won't do. I have a much better idea.

Rachel sat next Santana. "And what exactly do you have in mind, Quinn?"

"I know exactly what we are going to do. We, are going to go shopping and then," Quinn shifted her gazed from Rachel to Santana. "We are going dancing."

_Are you shitting me, Fabray? _

* * *

**Hey guys, I know this was shorter than usual but like I said, I really am busy and I really wanted to give you guys something. So, I will update as soon as I can and also, my poll is still on my profile, so check it out. As always, please review!**

**-Katie**


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